


You Spell Disaster

by dignis_sin_bar



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe mashup, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Harems, HorrorTale, HorrorTale Sans, Horrortale Papyrus, Inspired by SSLL, More Eventual AUs, Multi, Post-Canon, Slow Burn, Some Chapters are NSFW, Swapfell, Swapfell Papyrus - Freeform, Swapfell Sans, Underfell, Underfell Papyrus, Underfell Sans, Underlust, Underlust Papyrus - Freeform, Underlust Sans - Freeform, Underswap Papyrus, Underswap Sans, Well not quite, underswap - Freeform, very slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-02-15 19:54:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 65,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13038261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dignis_sin_bar/pseuds/dignis_sin_bar
Summary: You're a recently awakened human mage who has been forced to sign up under the Mage Registration Act and court-mandated to seek tutelage for your dangerous and out-of-control magic powers. Thankfully, the police officer has referred you to an apartment building chock-full of skeletons---- half of whom you have managed to piss off in the past several days. You struggle to keep your jobs, your powers, and your heart under control, but shenanigans ensue. Because you're dealing with skeletons.





	1. Roadside Blues

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Skeleton Squatters and the Landlady](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9816140) by [Tyrant_Tortoise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyrant_Tortoise/pseuds/Tyrant_Tortoise). 



> This is my first time posting Undertale fic, and my first time in several years posting anything. Please, please comment!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: mild gore, mild fantasy racism  
> Last edited 1/9, fixed some minor continuity errors. This chapter is SFW.

    “Look, we just can’t have Peyton and Caden staying in the same house as… those people. It won’t look right to the other parents. I mean, sure, they’ve been on the surface for a while, but we still don’t know what diseases they carry, or…..”

    You grip the receiver harder, and fumble around for something to crush with your other hand. Your client’s hateful words blur into themselves as you sink your nails into an empty beer can.

    “Are you listening to me? I’ll be by tomorrow to pick up their toys, and I expect them to be thoroughly disinfected. Half the vinegar to water, just to be safe. I’m off work at 4:30 and it will take me fifteen minutes to arrive with traffic-”

    “Yes, Dr. Carter. I’ll be there. Toys will be clean. Ass will be kissed. Goodbye.” Shit, did you really say that out loud? You hope she didn’t catch it. The Carters were pretty damn affluent, and Helen Carter’s word was law around their neighborhood. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You throw a beer can in your personal trash can by your room, the one with all the empty alcohol containers and condoms in it. Trash best kept away from the kids you babysit.

The place doesn’t look too bad tonight, since you expected to be babysitting Caden and Peyton tonight. But the places you keep them out of, like your room, are a wreck. The floors where the kids do hang around are scuffed to hell from countless toy cars. You want to at least sort your laundry before the sun goes down. Because that’s _your time_. When you’re not working, anyway. Might as well FaceTime your mom while you’re cleaning.

    “How the hell did she find out about your other clients? That’s gotta be some breach of privacy or something.”

    “I doubt it, mom. Probably just word of mouth. You know how these hens operate.”

    “Unfortunately,” your mom agrees, pushing back her short, greying hair. “Let’s just say I don’t miss teaching. Have you been eating?”

    “Nope, not really. I get a hot meal from work, and the rest of the time I can’t be bothered unless I’m cooking for the kids.”

    Your mom groans. “Come on, Y/N. Just do what I do. Cook a shitton of food on a good day and freeze it in Tupperware.”

    “Haven’t had a good day in a while,” you retort, frowning as you scrub. There’s a black stain on the hardwood by the kitchen and it’s eating up all your concentration.

    “Gone to the doctor? Your therapy appointments?” She pries further.

    “Yeah, my eyesight’s getting worse and my mood’s not getting better. Look, mom. I know you care. But you can ask these questions as many times as you want and the answers are never gonna change.”

   Your mother sighs and scratches her head. “You know I have to, Y/N.”

    “Yeah, I know. Love you, mom. Sun’s about to go down and I want this floor done before then.”

    “Well, that’s something. Love you, gremlin.” She hangs up.

     Your clothes and shoes are in order, and you even got most of the larger scuffs out of the floor. There’s one benefit of living in a small apartment. You clear up Peyton and Caden’s toys, not before stepping on a few Legos, of course. What the hell were Legos doing in your bathroom? Why didn’t you notice them before?

You toss your work clothes on a purple folding chair and jump in the shower. There’s actually hot water this time, which is nice. Your landlady had been promising to fix it for about a week or so. You make a mental note to drop by her office and thank her. But now it’s your time. And you’re still seething from that call, so tonight is getting dedicated solely to all the dumb shit you do when you’re angry.

You pull on those knee-high Doc Martens that ate half your paycheck last week, your collection of bootleg motorcycle rings, some ink-splattered jeans, and your favorite shirt. It’s worn, soft, and covered with pictures of porcelain dolls. It’s a good way to keep cowards and creeps off your back. All you have to do is lower your voice and say, “The dolls are my eyes and ears,”, and that’ll send most unwanted company packing. You wipe the scar makeup off your face, and let the gashes from that Doberman a couple years back show. Another way to keep morons away.

    You get into the elevator, and pick at the ugly wallpaper a bit on your way down. Seriously. Made by spiders or not, the color choices could have been better.

    The doors slide open, and you hop out with your best strut.

   “Practicing walking again, Y/N? Ahuhuhuhu…”

   “Hey, Muffet. What are you doing attending the desk so late tonight? Usually Carlyle will take care of that,” you ask politely. You can kiss ass for people you actually like.

   “None of that, dearie. Carlyle is working on replacing the wallpaper with the other ladies in the basement. People don’t seem to like it much. As I can see from your hands.”

    “Oh! Heh. I didn’t mess all of it up. Sorry. I just get restless,” you sweat. Muffet’s eyes narrow at you for a second, but her expression quickly turns cheerful.

    “Going out to make a fool of yourself again? Please do take an Uber this time. Last time, your motorcycle did a number on my parking meters that I did not appreciate,” she smirks.

    “No worries. I’ll try not to get into a drinking contest with Fuku again. That girl burns right through alcohol. It’s terrifying.”

    “The bar spiders at her Fuku’s usual watering hole say she cheats.” Carlyle, an ancient spider with a mile-long beard, yells from the back of Muffet’s office. “Just rat her out to her father! She won’t be competing for a long time, then.” He winks at you, and you shake your head.

    “It’s too cruel, Carl. I’d hate to see a guy like Grillby angry. He puts up with so much bullshit already, including mine.”

    “Grillby’s expanding, apparently, so he got a new manager for the one closest to here. He’s a right good-for-nothing from what I hear. I haven’t the foggiest why Grillby would hire such a skeevy wretch. Apparently he’s family or something!” a wrinkly old scorpion monster, Agatha, tuts. You like Agatha. For all her tiny gold-rimmed glasses and miniature quilts, you suspect the dame’s had some wild days.

    “Oh, dearie, it’s going to be cold out there! I managed to save your jacket and gloves from your last accident!” Agatha nags, and Carlyle tosses you said items.

    “Love you too, Agatha. Good to see you on all eight again. Seriously, I need to get going. See you tomorrow!” You yell as you throw the door open. Electra, your worn-to-hell motorbike, is waiting for you as usual.

    You buckle your helmet around your head and tighten your backpack straps. Time to go fuck yourself up a bit. Electra roars to life, and you can feel the entire bike shake under your feet.

    “Let’s go, sugar,” You mutter to her, and take off. Once you get around all the traffic between districts, you finally hit that favorite part of the journey: the bridges. You’re not _technically_ supposed to drive bikes in this part of the interstate, but nothing’s gone wrong before. Except for some younger punks on dirt bikes trying to outrace you once. That went about as well for them as you’d expect.

   The fresh winter wind chills your face, and your breath takes in the cold easily. You’re almost at ease for the first time today.

    Until some fuckwad in a Mitsubishi sportbike cuts you off.

    “Hey!” You yell, knowing that they won’t hear you. Fucking hell. The road is empty. There’s room for both of you. There’s no way that wasn’t deliberate.

    Eventually you catch up, and you’re determined to just… pass. Without incident.

    But whoever’s in that bike won’t let you do that. They slow down, gloat in your face, then take off. Their eyes are massive, glowing orbs that pierce right through their helmet. What kind of monster has eyes like that?

    You were going to wait to reach the Fall District to make your bad decisions of the night, but it’s on now. You press your knees tighter and pull ahead, your motor much louder and angrier than the sporty model the other rider’s on. Fuck, Electra never lets you down.

    You can hear them behind you, but they’re practically eating your dust. This part of the bridge isn’t well-policed, so you can let loose. Your heart is pounding into your lungs and you’re fighting to grip the bike from the speed. A pretty steep curve is coming, but you’re riding adrenaline now. You’re too fast on the curve, unless you can pull that drifting thing in racing films. <i> Okay, you got this. </i> The bike lurches left. You’re practically soaring---

    Shit. You’re actually soaring.The air gets sucker-punched out of your lungs, and it feels like you just keep falling. You try to brace for impact.

    But the impact never comes. Instead, your fall slows to a gentle stop. Someone takes hold of you, bridal style. You cautiously open your eyes.

 

    “Woah, there! You really ought to drive more carefully!” A cheerful, male voice chirps from within the helmet. It’s the other bike rider.

    “How--- maybe you ought to think twice before jumping off the bridge to catch someone! We could have both died!” You sputter, trying to save your pride.

    “No worries! I’m pretty good at what I do. Gravity magic helps a lot too! I slowed down your falling speed, then I jumped down to pick you up!” They retort. Then they take their helmet off, while carrying your entire body weight with one hand.

    Huh. It’s a skeleton monster, with massive eyelights that almost catch your own reflection in them.

    “You should probably put me down now. I wanna go get my bike and stuff.”

     He sets you down so carefully you barely even feel the ground touch you. You try to get up, but you feel something pinning you to your spot.

     “Hey, what’s the big idea? I need to go get Ele- my bike before some asshole tows it.”

     The skeleton monster removes his gloves, and places them neatly on his bike seat.

     “You’re not going anywhere until I check you for injuries. I’m not the best healer, but it’s better than paying any medical bills,” he answers. For such peppy eyes, that sure is a shit-eating grin on his mouth. You don’t buy his act for a minute.

     “Yeah, yeah. You just want to gloat that I managed to floor myself while you kept your cool, won the race, and saved my life,” you grumble.

     “Well, the dead can’t complain,” he retorts. “Would you mind removing your helmet for a little bit? And your gloves. I can magically detect injuries pretty well, but it’s good to double check.”

     “Fine,” you growl, and slip your helmet off.

     “Wait, let me--- oh.” The blue-eyed skeleton narrows his eyes at you (somehow), and you feel the weight on you increase. “I’ll get those gloves,” he smiles, slipping them off your hands. Somehow, the skeleton’s eyes get even brighter, almost boring right through you, and he looks your entire body up and down. You squirm in discomfort and try to stifle the fluttering in your chest. He’s a skeleton. What could he possibly be packing?

     He blinks and smiles at you again. “No injuries that I can detect, except maybe your ego and a few scuffs on your boots. You can get up again now.” The weight on your ribs loosens and you stand up all at once, throwing you off balance. He, of course, catches you again.

     “All right, all right, let go of me, Mr. Bones. I’m good to go,” you shrug him off. “Thanks for saving my ass. I’ve got a lot more mistakes to make tonight, and I’m gonna need my bike for those. See ya.”

     He snickers at you, then outright laughs. You turn to face him, and his eyes meet yours.

     “You fell a long way off that loop. It’s going to take you a long time to get back to your bike,” he teases.

     “And?” you snap. Yikes. You didn’t mean to sound that angry.

     “Just saying, my bike has plenty of room for two,” he pats the seat and pulls his gloves back on. “Don’t forget your helmet and gloves, Boots.”

     “I’ll ride, on the condition that you never call me that again. And only all the way back to my bike.”

     “You didn’t give me your name. Mine’s Blue! Nice to meet a fellow rider, even one as clumsy as you!” He giggles and shakes your hand. You grip a little harder than usual. He matches it easily.

     “You’ve got a tight grip! Too bad you couldn’t hold onto your---”

     “Maybe next time don’t clip me on that open road!” You sputter. “Just take me back to my bike, already, Blueberry.” It’s not your best insult, but you’re clearly not on your best game tonight. You wait for Blue to sit, then sit behind him, keeping as much distance between the two of you as possible.

     “Actually, my friends call me that sometimes! What do you want me to call you if not Boots? I really do like them, by the way.”

     “Thanks, Blue. It’s Y/N.”

     “You know you have to hold on tight on a motorcycle, right?” he reminds you.

     “Fine.” You wrap your arms around Blue’s sport jacket and lace your fingers together. He’s warm, somehow, despite the freezing air and the fact that he must be all bones.

     He goes at a steady, moderate pace, until you see Electra over the edge of the concrete. There’s a couple new scuffs on her paint, but she’s fine.

     You dismount, after fumbling a few attempts to unlace your own fingers.

     “Seriously. Thanks, Blue. See you around, I guess. Safe travels.”

     “Thanks, you too! Wait, which way are you headed, may I ask?”

    “You may not. See ya, Blueberry.” You wave him off, hop on your bike, and take off, a little more carefully this time. Grillby’s awaits, and you can’t wait to butt heads with that new manager.

     Turns out Agatha was only half-right; Grillby’s hasn’t just changed ownership, but name and image. It’s a completely new bar. The parking lot is full of clunkers and drag-racers from the next town over. You can’t connect any faces to the cars, but you know they mean bad news. That isn’t going to stop you, though. This may be someone else’s bar, but that bench in the middle is yours, and it’s nothing a few broken noses can’t fix. Yours or the others’. The only thing you recognize besides the building itself is the Soviet car around the left corner. At least they didn’t move that.

     You puff up your chest, like you learned in acting class, and push the door open with your best murder face. The seat in the middle is empty, as it should be. The bar is chock-full of hostile looking monsters and the smoke is unnavigable. Your gut tells you to turn back. But your head is seething from your embarrassing incident with the blue-eyed skeleton.

     _Fuck these monsters. I almost died for that seat tonight and I’ll be damned if I don’t sit in it,_ your mind growls. So you sit down.

     “You sure turned the place around overnight,” you call to the bartender with a smirk in your voice. He’s a purple fire elemental. When he turns around to meet you, you can see why Agatha might’ve thought that he and Grillby were related. Not that you think all monsters look the same or anything, but the differences are minimal. His features are sharper, and his metaphysical jaw is lined with pointed teeth. His walk is wider, and his black dress shirt is unbuttoned, tie loosened. His shoes are polished to a high sheen, and he doesn’t seem to need glasses. Not to mention the small gold chain draped around his neck. He saunters right up to you, eyeing you with disgust all the while.

     “Grillby didn’t tell me this place came with vermin,” he leered. His smile was playful, but there was bite in his words.

     “I’ll miss him,” you respond. “He was quieter, and less full of hot air. Mind serving me more drinks and less third-rate insults?”

     “We don’t serve watered-down monster alcohol here anymore. You should head somewhere else, where your pitiful fleshy body can handle the heat,” he scoffed.

     “If you’d really talked to Grillby, you’d know this fleshbag in particular can handle herself just fine. Spiked Sea Tea with salt rim, make that a double shot.”

     He pours you a glass of cranberry juice with a lemon slice and umbrella instead. Some of the monsters at the nearby tables start cracking up and “ooh”ing.

     You calmly push it to the side. “I’m not paying for anything I didn’t order, Matches. Don’t waste your time.”

    “It’s Sparkby. Didn’t you read the sign, mole-rat? If you can’t handle what I’m serving, you can take off to your college dorm on your third-rate, thrift-shop bike.” He teased in return. The edge on his voice is intensifying. He leans closer to you; you can smell phosphorus on his breath.

     **“I’d watch my back on the way out, though.”** he whispers into your ear. “Some of my actual clients have a real itching for bacon. Like that one.”

     A strong hand digs into your shoulder, almost puncturing your coat.

     “What’s wrong, human? Don’t ya know how to greet a new pal?”

     The stench of mustard and cheap cigarettes fills your nostrils. You push down your gag reflex and reply,

     “I don’t know. But something tells me it isn’t having an attack held behind them.” You’re bluffing, but you’ve always been a good bluffer. It comes with years of throwing rowdy diner customers out in the afternoons and wrangling pissed-off children and teenagers during your babysitting gigs at night. You hear the vacuous sound of magic dissipating.

     The skeleton cackles, and the entire bar joins him. You’ve reached your limit, and it’s time to teach the entire bar that this has been, and will always be your seat. That your life is already really fucking unpleasant and nothing they could possibly do to you would make it bad enough for you to abandon one of the only spots in this entire city that you truly cherish.

     You throw the punch straight to the skeleton’s face, and he seems genuinely shocked to have taken it. It only pushes him back a bit, but his expression gives his tough-guy act away.

     Then he starts laughing again. It’s loud, raspy, and deep, and it vibrates through your entire body.

     “Damn! If she isn’t a feisty one. That actually hurt. Keep the seat,” he chuckles. “What’s it even mean to ya? Jeez. I’ve never cared about anything enough to punch the property of someone who so far outmatches me in strength and talent, sugar.” He offers you his hand. You take it, and despite the sharpened nail in his palm, give it a tight squeeze.

     “Name’s Red. Red the Skeleton. Owned by the Captain of the Royal Guard.” He pulls the tag on his studded collar out from his fur-lined coat for you to see.

     “You’ve got guts. Or stupid. Either way, I’m not ratting you out to my boss. This time. Get her that Sea Tea, Sparks.”

     “It’s not going on your tab, asshole.” Sparkby sounds defeated, grumpy. Good.

     “I can pay for myself just fine,” you hiss.

     “Then you better pay me back for the number you just did to my face. Come on, lady. Wasn’t my mug ugly enough for you as it was? Now it’s even more fucked up. If I had to ask boss for another gold tooth, I think he’d pull out one or more of yours,” Sans grins, showing off his fangs. Also sharpened. You’re starting to notice a pattern. Wait, <i>owned</i> by the Captain of the Royal Guard?

     “What the fuck do you mean, owned? That sounds all kinds of illegal and bondagey,” you retort.

     Red almost chokes on his own… spit? Do skeletons spit? “Damn, human, quick to jump to conclusions much? What the fuck.... It’s not like that. You don’t know this crowd at all, do ya?”

     “Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure. All I know is this: I’ve been going to this joint for longer than you’ve been underground, and I’m not about to give up this seat just because some pointy-toothed bad boy wants to weasel his way onto it.”

     “I like your style. Except the doll shirt. That’s the grossest thing I’ve seen since I looked in the mirror this morning,” Red wrinkles his nasal bone. He’s staring right down said shirt. You’re already tired of this conversation. You have work tomorrow morning, and what was supposed to be a short drink run and a camp out in the woods has turned into an affair several hours long.

     Sparkby slams your Sea Tea on the table. You chug it faster than Red can blink, slide the money over the counter, and shove the stool behind you.

     “For such a slick Rick, you sure don’t know how to look at the goods without ogling. See you later, Cherry.” At this point, you’re gonna piss off all the skeletons in town, but you don’t care. That Sea Tea just knocked out your knees from under you, and you want to make a memorable exit. You shove a couple of lizard guys out of your way and toss the door open.

     A gang of cats is on you before you can even blink. They drag you to an alley by the bar.

     “Hey, what’s the big idea, human? Think a punch to the weakest guy at the bar’s gonna prove anything?” The leader’s yellow eyes leer at you in the dark. “Leave her for me, girls. But don’t let her escape till I’m done.”

     She leaps on you, her massive weight pinning you to the ground. You manage to dodge her first couple of scratches, but her last few tear the skin up on your left cheek. You can taste the blood in your mouth, and you try to spit it but cough it out pathetically instead. She punches both your eyes shut, gets up, and starts kicking the shit out of you. You manage to guard your fingers and guts from her stomping, but her foot catches your right ankle and she throws all her weight into it. The crunch of your bones makes you want to throw up.

     Worse still, something is pulling at your chest cavity. The other cats are hissing and roaring with laughter. For a moment, you feel it all: the stupid bitch Carter dropping out the biggest paycheck you’d been receiving for months, the look on Peyton’s face when you teach him how to dodge a punch, Caden’s delight at the engineering set you snuck to her last Christmas, how much you miss your mom, everything, **everything** , like your chest is on fire----

     Fire.

     Seething pink fire is all you can see around you, billowing from some sort of orb, blurred from the pain and heat and blood dripping into your eyes. It forms a circle around you, but you don’t feel any pain. The heat feels hollow; you reach out to it feverishly, and it climbs all over your body like a friendly snake.

     Your vision blinks in and out of order, as you stretch your hand instinctively for the source of flame.

    “Shit---- molerat----- my fucking bar------- human-------how”

     The last thing you hear is assorted yelling and steps rushing towards you.


	2. You're A Wizard, and a Bloody Dangerous One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Read winds up battered to hell and back, in the house of the skeleton who she punched in the face. And his "owner" doesn't seem particularly happy to see her. This chapter is SFW.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild gore in this chapter. Nothing crazy, just injury descriptions. This is a two-parter, with the next bit coming in today or tomorrow! I have some other imagines and commissions to work on, or I'd just write this all day. It's been a really healing process so far, and I've gotten to talk to some lovely people who have helped me beta. If you have time and you don't know them already, please go check out sexy-sans-the-ass on Tumblr! Their headcanon work is amazing and they helped me look over this chapter. My tumblr is dignis-sin-bar.tumblr.com, if you can't get enough of my work for some reason, or you want to send in some matchups/headcanons/doodle requests/rp with my oc. Kisses!

Chapter 2: You’re A Wizard, and A Bloody Dangerous One  
Mother of fuck, your _head_. And not the good kind. It feels like the plates of your skull are scraping against each other. Your ears are ringing. You roll into a fetal position, but the blanket is too small and smells like the wrong detergent. Where the fuck do they sell cinnamon detergent anyway?  
Your eyelids half heartedly cooperate as you try to look around your surroundings. The bedroom is painted a deep mahogany, which wouldn’t be your first choice. There are car posters everywhere- the expensive kind- antiques, buses covered in colorful graffiti. The windows have black blinds and curtains. This hasn’t happened to you in a long time: waking up in someone else’s house. Usually you get sent home right after… well, you know. Dissatisfying oral or something. If it really sucks, you escort yourself out anyway. But you don’t remember going home with anyone last night. Which either means you stayed at the bar till closing, or you blacked out and someone took pity on you. What’s left, anyway  
Your wrists are bandaged up, and it hurts to move your fingers, but they’re not broken. You know that feeling too. Your ankle’s a different story. It feels shattered. Enough has happened to you over the past few years for you to know the difference. You lift your borrowed shirt up. Your abdomen looks gruesome. There’s bruising all over it, contrasting with neat stitches all throughout.  
“LAY BACK DOWN BEFORE YOU TEAR THE STITCHES, HUMAN. WE HAVE SOME BUSINESS TO DISCUSS.” A voice growls from a darker corner of the room. Narrow, glowing red eyes glare at you from the dark. But it doesn’t sound like Red at all. It’s a scratchy, commanding tenor. The only other thing you can see is the reflective Royal Guard symbol.  
Oh, no.  
….”owned by the Captain of the Royal Guard.” Now it’s coming back. You got in a dick-waving contest with a short, wide skeleton named Red over a stupid seat and got the shit kicked out of you by cat girls as a consequence. Of all the places you could have ended up, why did it have to be this guy’s house?  
“I CAN FEEL YOUR MAGIC CHARGING IN THE AIR. BUT THERE’S NO POINT. AND IF I WANTED TO KILL YOU, I WOULDN’T DRAG YOU BACK HERE AND BRING THE STENCH OF HUMAN INTO MY HOME.” He takes an office chair to your bedside. You look around for the exit, but both of your legs are asleep. And you don’t know how badly you’re injured yet. Last thing you need is to start coughing up a lung halfway through your escape attempt.  
The captain leans in. His narrow red eyelights are tearing into you. Just like those teeth could. They’re longer and sharper than Red’s.  
No, he’s right. Your injuries could have probably killed you without Red’s intervention. Deep down, you wish they had.  
Caden and Peyton were gone. You probably wouldn’t see them again, and as stern as you were, you loved the hell out of those kids. You were supposed to interview with a monster lady named Toriel today and meet her two children, but you wouldn’t be surprised if you’d missed it. It had to be past midday by now. If it was even still ‘today’.  
Okay. One thing at a time or you’ll freak out. The matter of the skeleton. You summon up the last of your bravery and glare him down.  
“NOW, THAT’S A BETTER LOOK FOR YOU. FOR A MOMENT I THOUGHT YOU WERE TRYING TO GARNER THE PITY OF THE TERRIBLE EDGE. AND THAT WOULD HAVE ENDED IN ME THROWING YOU OUT OF MY----” Edge- is that seriously his name?- is interrupted by loud knocking at a door further away. Must be the entrance.  
The bedroom door opens. Red saunters in, fidgeting with his collar. There’s a bandage across the side of his face where you punched him.  
“Ah, Princess Sunshit is awake. Blue’s at the door, Boss. Maybe Stretch too. Want me to let ‘em in?” He winks at you, and you almost bare your teeth at him.  
“Fuck off, Cherry,” You try to sound intimidating, but your throat is too sore to make serious threats.  
He looks you up and down, then wrinkles his nasal ridge and smirks.  
“You sound like shit, your Highness. Seriously, Boss. If I don’t give a response he won’t stop knocking.”  
Edge pinches his forehead and grinds his fangs. The sound is awful. “SA---RED, I’M TRYING TO WORK HERE. LET THEM IN, BUT… JUST TRY AND KEEP THEM BUSY. I CAN’T DEAL WITH THEM RIGHT NOW.”  
“You got it, bro--- Boss. Later, princess.” Red closes the door behind him, leaving you and Edge alone. Edge’s attention laser-focuses on you again.  
“ALL RIGHT. EXCUSE ME FOR THE INTERRUPTION.” Edge rises to his feet. “I AM CAPTAIN EDGE OF THE ROYAL GUARD, FROM THE FELL REFUGEE NATION OF MONSTERS. MY BROTHER AND THAT LOATHSOME MATCHBOX RESCUED YOU FROM THE BAR LAST NIGHT. WHICH YOU BLEW UP A GOOD THIRD OF. I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU WERE THINKING, BUT YOUR ‘FAVORITE CHAIR’ YOU THOUGHT WAS WORTH DAMAGING MY PROPERTY WAS SHATTERED INTO OBLIVION AS WELL.”  
“Sorry about that, Boss-- Edge. I don’t know what happened, I just knew I wanted to escape, and the next thing I know there’s fire everywhere.”  
“SEE, THAT’S WHERE I DON’T BELIEVE YOU. AS CLUMSY AS IT WAS, THAT WAS A POWERFUL SPELL. HUMAN MAGES OF THAT CALIBER ARE RARE, BUT TYPICALLY EASY TO TRACE. FAMOUS, EVEN. YOU CAME OUT OF NOWHERE AND ATTACKED A LARGE CROWD. SO YOU MUST BE EXPERIENCED, AND CONCEALING YOURSELF TO FURTHER YOUR OWN AGENDA.” There’s inches between your face and his.  
“What are you planning, mage? How did you get here from the Fell Nation portal? We may have been defeated hundreds of years ago, but we’re well-versed in your tactics now.” His voice is almost inaudible. Deadlier. He could shove a bone through your abdomen, in complete silence, and no one would hear.  
“What--- I would never---- they attacked first! I’m as surprised as you are!”  
“I’ll throw you into a cramped little cave for a change, if I have to. And seal it, just to watch you starve from the other side.”  
“Seriously! I didn’t mean to do whatever you think I did! And if I am a wizard or whatever, I have no clue how to make it happen again! I just got scared and there was fire everywhere. Do I have to get up and fight you to prove it?”  
Edge grins slyly, showing you even more of those razor-sharp teeth.  
“No. What we need is an impartial judge of intent. And I know just the bonehead to do it. Though I won’t hesitate to pummel you into the ground, if my suspicions are correct. Until then, I have _company to deal with_ ”, he finishes through gritted teeth.  
“Wait, don’t! He’s busy, he’s not gonna like it!” You hear Red yell.  
“Edge! I’m coming in!”  
“WAIT---BLUE-----”  
The door flies open so hard that some of the hinges loosen, and the door lilts sadly. It’s the skeleton from earlier, this time in a blue scarf, t-shirt, and jeans. He’s still wearing his jacket from yesterday, though.  
“Edge!” He tackles the larger skeleton in a hug, knocking the wind out of him. “It’s so good to see you!”  
“WE SAW EACH OTHER YESTERDAY, BLUE. BUT YES, IT IS GOOD TO SEE YOU AS WELL. PLEASE, LET GO OF ME NOW.” Edge sets Blue back down on the ground. Did Blue literally leap into his arms? You snicker.  
“Oh, human! It’s you again! Hi!” Blue goes to hug you, but notices your numerous injuries and holds back. “Yikes, that doesn’t look fun. Did you get in another motorcycle accident?”  
“Another? Princess, what the hell is your day job? Do they put up with this shit?” Red snickers. You reach for your phone and check your texts. You feel a lump in your stomach form.  
It’s been three days. There’s a whole length of angry texts from your coworkers at the diner.  
“Nope. No, they don’t. I’m fired. And I missed my interview slot with Toriel.”  
“Toriel? Which one?” Blue asks.  
“What do you mean, which one?” you croak.  
“HE MEANS NOTHING!” Edge snaps.  
“That’s not---- mmph!” Blue kicks in the air as Edge puts a hand over his mouth and literally throws him out the door. “RED, KEEP AN EYE ON HIM UNTIL I’M FINISHED HERE.”  
“So build up your strength while you can, human. I’ll be assisting in getting you back in fighting shape. I pulled some strings and got upper management in the diner to retire you without penalty. Honestly, someone with your power should be doing a lot better for themselves.”  
“Wait, you asked them to fire me? What the fuck?” You lurch up, but the pain rips right through you and you hear something snap. You try to reach for the wall, but your hands just won’t work. You fall on your palms and it stings so bad that you just drop.  
“RED? COME FIX THE HUMAN’S STITCHING. THEY’VE FUCKED IT UP AGAIN. AND CHANGE THEIR BANDAGES. I’M NOT GOING TO DO IT A FIFTH TIME. YOU’RE THE ONE WHO PICKED THEM UP, SO SHOW SOME RESPONSIBILITY!”  
“Bandages? Who’re you harboring back there, Edgelord?” A new voice asks from what you presume to be the living room.  
“They’ve got a human, Papy! She’s all kinds of injured, though. Edge and Red brought her here to patch her up! It’s actually the same human I saved from falling to their death last night at the overpass!”  
“Wait, really? Now I gotta see this,” “Papy” mused. The door opened silently and a lanky, hunched skeleton with sandals and socks- yikes- walked in.  
“WAS I NOT CLEAR WHEN I THREW THE RUNT OUT THAT I WAS LOOKING FOR SOME TIME ALONE WITH THE HUMAN, ASHTRAY?” Edge sucked his breath in.  
“I’m not a runt! I’m compactly built for maximum combat efficiency!” Blue protested, shoving himself in behind the taller one.  
“Eh, wanted to make sure that you weren’t the reason she got stitched up in the first place is all,” the tall one shrugged. “Name’s Stretch. I’d shake your hand, but I have a feeling now’s not a good time.”  
“You know what it’d be a good time for? Helping me get back up without ripping more stitches,” you demand. But you’ve kind of faceplanted, so it’s muffled at best.  
The door creaks and Red walks back in with a roll of bandages and a first aid kit.  
“Why is it every time I find you, you’re face flat on the ground?” Red snickers.  
“Karma for punching you, I guess. I’ll keep falling on my face until my bruise is as big as yours.”  
“Sorry, Sunshit, but have you looked in a mirror lately? Your bruise is 3 times the size of mine.”  
“Red! That’s a terrible nickname for a human, especially one you just met!”  
“I don’t need you to defend me, Blueberry,” you groan.  
“See? That’s how you pick a nickname. Y/N gets it!” Why are they ignoring you? Is this Captain asshole just helping you out to watch you struggle? Did he invite the entire skeleton community to laugh at you? Why didn’t he just leave you to die?  
You push down with your hands, through the pain. Tears well up in your eyes, so you turn your face as best as you can while you blink them away. Your abdomen just won’t come up. You were never any good for push-ups.  
“Shit--- hey, stop moving, princess!” Red yelped.  
“Human, wait! I can just pick you up!”  
“Don’t!” You hiss through gritted teeth. You dig one hand into the mattress, then the other. Your good ankle aches from your body’s weight, and it’s hard to get your cast to cooperate at all. But you do it all, never once moving your glare from Edge. It hurts. It hurts so fucking much. Breathing burns. Your eyes itch with tears.  
“I get it,” you laugh raspily. “No, it’s funny! ‘Look at the pathetic human! Watch her fall off her motorcycle! Watch her get her ass kicked by a gang of monsters! Watch her tear her stitches and don’t even catch her when she falls! Intimidate her as soon as she wakes up! But it’s okay, because I saved her life and now she _owes_ me!’” You step closer and closer to Edge. Something begins to flicker and pop at the edge of your nerves, like when you try to move a sleeping limb.  
“Woah, woah, woah, human! Your magic’s going crazy! Take it easy! You don’t know what you’re doing!” Red begs, but you ignore him and get closer.  
“I THINK SHE DOES, SANS. WHY DON’T YOU TELL THEM THE TRUTH ABOUT LAST NIGHT, HUMAN? OR JUST SHOW US! SHOW ME HOW MUCH YOU HATE ME,” Edge spits.  
You know what he’s doing. If you attack now, as much as your magic wants to, he’ll be right. You’ll be the evil, murderous mage who blew up a bar over a seat and killed the monsters who saved her life. But you can’t just _take_ accusations like that either. It’s your pride against your integrity.  
You take a deep breath. And that tugging feeling in your chest arises again. But it’s not painful, or from a place of anger. It’s you, trying to express what you really mean. The orb that emitted fire last night is rising in front of you again. It’s more of a heart shape, actually, and a reddish-tinted purple. Easier to see now that both your eyes haven’t been punched shut. You try to look closer.  
Then Edge’s expression goes flat, and he reaches right for it.  
“BOSS, NO!” Red screams, startling the older skeleton. He almost drops it, and Blue lunges for it as fast as he can.  
“Shit, SHIT--RED! I HAD IT!” Edge howls at his brother, his voice cracking. “DID YOU REALLY THINK-----”  
Red looks horrified, eyesockets dark. He’s not even moving. Did he check out of his own body or something? He’s back, all at once.”I---- Boss--- come-come on, you know me! I’m just-”  
“Fuck off, Sans,” Edge mutters. “You’re coming with me, human. I don’t want to risk you escaping.” He picks you up, over his shoulder, and you wince, but nothing more breaks. “If you need me, I’ll be on the smoking balcony. Make yourselves at home.”  
It’s a long corridor to the balcony, a round alcave with more room than you’d expect. There’s enough space for a party, actually. The view to the city is fantastic. Shit, did the goddamn sun go down on you again? How long have you been here? How long will it be?  
“Where would you like to sit?” Edge asks quietly. He looks tired. And maybe guilty.  
He looks like you.  
“By the edge--- sorry, near the--- ugh, I’m not trying to make a pun but there’s no way around it,” you chuckle.  
“DON’T MAKE ME SUFFER MORE, HUMAN. I GET ENOUGH OF THAT SHIT-TIER HUMOR FROM MY BROTHER AND HIS FRIENDS.”  
You watch the clouds dance across the sky. They’re thin tonight, and easily torn apart in transit.  
“HE THOUGHT I WAS ACTUALLY GOING TO KILL YOU,” Edge laments, almost to himself.  
“What do you mean? What even was that thing? Is it important?”  
“IS IT IMPORTANT--- IT’S YOUR SOUL, YOU PATHETIC EXCUSE FOR A MAGE! THE VERY CULMINATION OF YOUR BEING IS IN THAT STUPID PURPLEY PINKISH ORB!” He stands up, fuming. “YOUR MAGIC WAS GETTING OUT OF CONTROL SO I GRABBED YOUR SOUL TO TRY TO CALM YOU, AND RED ACTUALLY THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO SHATTER IT IN MY HAND!”  
“I mean, if I’d known what it was, that would’ve been my first guess too,” You shrug.  
“STARS, YOU’RE AMAZING AT REASSURING PEOPLE, AREN’T YOU?”  
“Yeah, and you’re a real master of bedside demeanor, Captain Bossypants. Sitting in the darkest recesses of their room and watching them sleep with glowing red eyes--- definitely soothing for someone who literally exploded themselves apart without knowing why.”  
“UGH-- I CAN SEE THAT NOW! I FIGURED THOSE WERE REGULAR BURNS ON YOUR HANDS, BUT THEY’RE MAGIC-BASED. YOU’RE SO SHIT AT THIS THAT YOU HURT YOURSELF WITH YOUR OWN FIRE. YOU’RE STILL DANGEROUS. BUT YOU’RE NOT WHAT I THOUGHT YOU WERE.”  
“Yeah, me too. You’re slightly less of a dick than I’d presumed. So, you gonna throw me in that cave?”  
“I **ALSO** THOUGHT YOU WERE A PERSON OF REASON WHO COULD PICK UP ON A SUBTLE APOLOGY. BUT YOU’RE JUST AS THICK AS THE THUGS I USED TO TAKE ON IN SNOWDIN.”  
“ Prove it.”  
“I CAN’T. NOT ALL OF US MADE IT OUT.”  
“What? You scare them all to death too or something?” Edge doesn’t answer. “Edge?”  
“Nothing, human.” Edge pulls a small suture kit out of his pockets, which you assumed were too tight to hold anything.  
“Lift your shirt up. I might as well fix those stitches, since no one’s around.”  
“I didn’t know you were into the public shit,” you chuckle.  
“HURRY UP BEFORE I CHANGE MY MIND!”  
You oblige. Then you remember that you left last night with a garish red bra on. It has stars where the nipples are and a bunch of extra leather straps because you ran out of normal underwear. You try to pull it down, but the door opens at that one, perfect moment when the other skeletons are coming to check on you.  
“I knew you were a knockout princess, but I didn’t think you’d have me seein’ stars----”  
“WHAT PART OF EXCUSE ME DID YOU NOT UNDERSTAND?!”

So, Edge and Red are brothers, Stretch (the tall hoodie one’s name, which makes sense) and Blue are brothers, and they’ve all seen your tits. Red begs Edge to let him do your stitches, because he “feels bad for making fun of you”. Neither you nor Edge buy it, and Edge insists on dressing and cleaning your injuries as before.  
He changes your bandages with a look of abject disgust on his face, and cleans up your scratch wounds from the cats as well.  
“So where’d all this bruising and scarring on my gut from? I thought I dodged getting kicked in the stomach,” you wonder.  
“SHRAPNEL, HUMAN. THINK ABOUT THAT NEXT TIME YOU DESTROY A FACILITY YOU’RE STANDING RIGHT NEXT TO.”  
“Look, fuck off, okay, Captain?”  
Edge squirms a little when you call him that, then gets back to his work. When he finishes, he pulls your shirt down and leaves the room as fast as possible. You try to listen in to whatever he and the others are talking about, but now they feel like being quiet for once. 

Red comes in after a couple of minutes with a tray of monster food. You recognize it from the stuff Agatha leaves in care packages at your doorstep.  
“Mealtime, kid. Promise it’s not poison.”  
“No shit. It’s Moldsmal jello and Spider Cider. Thanks, Red.” You pick up the spoon and start digging in.  
“You know what they make Spider Cider with, right?” Red snorts. Too bad for him you do. Agatha sent a note to you with the packet of cider mix, saying that she would understand if you didn’t want the cider afterward, but that it was an integral part of spider life to benefit the community’s growth, even in death, by becoming sustenance to either be sold or eaten by the clan.  
You drink the entire thing and lock eyes with him. “Spiders. And yeah, I know where the jello’s from too. There. I ruined your little joke.”  
“You’re way more fun when you’re drunk, Sunshit.”  
“And you’re insufferable in all states of sobriety, Cherry.”  
“Yeah, yeah. I saved your bike. Electra’s a shitty name. It’s just the name of the model,” Red criticizes.  
“What else do you know?” You raise an eyebrow.  
“More than you, asshole. I’ve got about three Engineering doctorates under my belt at this point.” He smirks, showing you that one gold tooth. “I’m more interested in what’s under yours, though.”  
“You’re gonna have to try harder than that, mustard breath,” you counter.  
Red pulls a large tin of Altoids out of his pocket and dumps the entirety of the contents into his mouth. Altoids classics. The curiously fucking strong mint that used to make you cry when you were a kid. In his mouth. All of them.  
He chewed them thoroughly, watching you all the while through the horrible noise.  
“How about now?” Red gets up and breathes hard in your face. Mustard and mint do NOT mix. You grab your nose away from him and roar through your mouth in pain.  
“Fuck, Red! That shit fries nose hairs. Could you never do that to me again?”  
“All right,” he grins. “I gotta check your hands though, so lemme find a way not to hit you again.” He maneuvers around you, pushing his ribcage into your back and setting his jaw on your shoulder.  
“How’s this?” his cool breath ghosts across your shoulder. He tenderly unwraps the bandages on your hands, taking care not to poke your injuries with his pointed phalanges. Man, you knew monster food had healing properties, but it never ceases to amaze you how effective it can be. Most of the heavy blistering and redness is gone. It’s also possible that your own magical concentrations increase the food’s efficacy.  
“Beautiful,” he sighs. You try and fail to suppress a shudder.  
He drops your hands and heads for the door. “Your hands are basically fine. A couple more days of eating monster food and you should be good to go off the cast. Just don’t tell people. FDA regulations and stuff. See you around, princess.”  
“Wait, Red!” You call.  
“Need something else, your highness?” He taunts you playfully.  
You’re gonna regret this. You’re never going to hear the end of it. But you can’t sleep without it.  
“Do you…” You swallow. “Do you have any children’s books?”  
“Ha!” Red wheezes. “You want me to read you a goddamn bedtime story?!”  
“I’d rather eat the pages in front of you, shitheel.”  
“Then what’s the big idea, goin’ all soft on me after punching me in the face?” he jokes.  
“Look, I’m sorry, Red! It wasn’t anything against you specifically. I had a bad day and I just wanted to sit at my favorite barstool, but then it turned out that my bar got bought out by a complete scuzzball and all the new patrons acted like I had something to prove. Also, you had an attack ready for me. Don’t think I forgot that or something.”  
“Force of habit, princess. Wasn’t anything on you either. Sorry about that. But even then, I could feel the magic radiating off of ya. I figured if I couldn’t disarm you with humor, I should just skewer you and prevent a full-on barfight. Those usually end in pretty big casualties where I’m from.” Red concedes.  
“Yeah. Well, where I’m from, I’m a babysitter. And I just lost my two favorites because their monster-hating mom got wind of me taking on Toriel’s kids. I’m not gonna get to read to them again.” You grunt, but manage to stand up on your own. “I need a shower. Where are the towels?”  
Red’s eyelights shift around, and he shoves his hands in his pockets. Weird. You would’ve expected him to laugh even harder once he found out that you were a babysitter.  
“Um, Boss is actually in the shower right now. And he likes to make up for how little I bathe by taking hour-long showers or more. Seriously. You only need to polish your bones once a week at best! Why’s he gotta do it--- I’m getting off track. Lemme see if Stretch and Blue are willing to let you use theirs. They live right across the hall. I--if that’s okay with you, of course!” He garbles his speech.  
“Uh, sure. I’ll need help walking there, though.”  
“Yeah, I’ve gotcha, princess.” For once, the name isn’t said with derision. Red carefully loops his shoulder under yours, and you take a couple of steps. Fuck, it hurts. But you’re filled with determination. As if this hasn’t happened before.  
“You seem to have it on your own, there,” Red raises a browbone. “Actually, this is a lot of injuries you’re working with, and you aren’t fazed at all.”  
“I’m clumsy,” you cut him off. “Blue told you I almost fell off an overpass last night on my bike.”  
“How’d that even happen? You don’t seem like some rando with a motorcycle. You steer it really well.” You stop in your tracks.  
“How the fuck would you know that? When did you see me riding Electra?”  
“I was in the old Soviet car in the parking lot missing its headlights. No one’s towed it since Sparkby bought the place out, and it’s a good napping spot. Until someone starts burning rubber all over the street. Those were some sweet moves, princess. Good punch, too.”  
“Stop trying to flatter your way into my pants, Red. I get it. It’s a nice bra, I’ve got nice tits, and you think it’s funny to rile me up with nothing behind it. Can we go?”  
Red winces. “Whatever you say, Y/N.” 


	3. Chapter 3: He's Just So Bubbly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Read spends some quality time with the Swap bros, and things get steamy. After she has a panic attack and throws up, because that's how you're supposed to write a harem fic. Right? *twitches nervously*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! Triggers for tonight: anxiety/panic attacks, temporary loss of agency, convulsions, body image issues... I think that's about it. And the mild gore also stands, since Read won't stay still long enough to heal her damn stitches. This chapter has some mild NSFW.  
> Beta-read by [ rbssns ](rbssns.tumblr.com) and [sexy-sans-the-ass ](sexy-sans-the-ass.tumblr.com)!  
> Where is my tumblr, you probably don't ask? Why it's [ dignis-sin-bar ](dignis-sin-bar.tumblr.com)! Prompts, headcanons, imagines and matchups are open, but my account is 18+.  
> Happy reading and sorry for the delay!

Chapter 3: He’s Just So Bubbly  
“Come with me,” Red steers you away from the hallway. “Let’s walk.”  
“I don’t have much of a choice, Red,” you concede flatly. “I can’t go very far without you.”  
“Gettin’ real sick of your attitude, Sunshit. We’re headed back to the balcony. I’m not dropping you off on Stretch’s doorstep acting like a bitch.”  
He pushes the door to the balcony open, and you both maneuver awkwardly through it. He sets you down unceremoniously and pulls up a chair across from you.  
“Attack me.”  
“What?” You sputter.  
“Do it, princess.”  
“Why? There’s no reason for me to pick a real fight with you.”  
“Then what the hell’s your problem? Yeah, I’m a bit of a prick. I like messin’ with people. But you just don’t let up, so I imagine you have a real bone to pick with me.”  
“I’ve got---- heh. I see what you did there,” you grin.  
“See? That’s what I like to see. You got a nice smile, human. So talk to me. I’m pretty shit at this sorta thing, but I wanna try.”  
You twiddle your thumbs. You hate being cornered like this. There’s just so much inside of you, and people expect you to just open the floodgates without considering the consequences.  
“All right, Red. Let’s do this.” Fire manifests in your hands. Red stops for a moment, staring at your hands in surprise. Then he stands up.  
“Heheheh, all right, princess. Time to teach you some basic shit. So… I’m not crazy knowledgeable about mages. But you need to draw on your primary SOUL trait. There are seven: bravery, justice, kindness, patience, integrity, perseverance, and.... Let’s leave the last one alone for now. You can tell by the color of your SOUL, and the color of your strongest magic if you’re a monster. You’re purple. Perseverance. No wonder, since you’re such a hard-headed little shit.”  
“I take pride in being a pain,” you retort.  
“Uh-huh. Yeah, crank up the fire a bit. I need to see what’s going wrong,” Red continues.  
You push the fire harder, trying to control your breath. Panic is rising through your lungs as you remember what happened the last/first time you did this.  
In a flash, Red is on you, pinning you down by your arms with his weight on top of you. “There’s the first problem. I can smell your fear. Most Fell Nation monsters will be able to, but some Tale monsters can catch it too.” Furious, you feel pressure building up within your chest, but Red slams his palms into yours. The fire dissipates, becoming hot white light that courses all over his bones.  
“Oh, you ain’t blowing another place to smithereens.”  
“What the hell was that?!” You sputter.  
“Magician’s secret,” he grins. “If you wanna know, you better learn how to CHECK me.” He leans in close to your ear. “Or I’ll drain you dry,” he rumbles, sending a shiver down your spine.  
You pull away, but he’s got you pinned down hard. Where is this strength coming from? He’s a fucking skeleton! There are no muscles for him to use!  
“This is bullshit! You know shit that I don’t know!” You protest, thrashing as hard as you can, minding your ankle.  
“Oh, yeah, princess? Welcome to Underfell. Better find a way out of this before you get killed. You wanna run with the tough crowd? Well, get in line,” he mocks, laughing derisively while you growl and twist as hard as you can. What’s his fucking deal?! How is he doing this?  
You glare at him, still fighting for your life.  
**RED (SANS)  
** *DEF: 45 ATK: 75 HP 10/10  
*Not the best way to begin learning how to FIGHT. You should have asked Blue instead.  
*Watch for his magic drainage.  
_All right,_ you strategize. _I gotta get him off me, first. He’s probably draining me just by touching me. After that, I need to focus on keeping a distance between him and me._  
You shove your good knee out from under Red and kick him in the ribs hard enough for him to have to let go. “Fuck!” He yelps. You scramble to your feet and try to put some distance between you and him. “Nice one, princess. But what now? Your hands have gotta be stinging by now. You don’t know how to control your strength.” Shit, he’s right. You have to try something longer-range. Maybe not manifest fire so close to your hands, but like a circle or wall around you. Before you can even finish the thought, there’s already fire swirling around you, the circle adjusting to your movements.  
“Nice!” Red yells. “But that’s not gonna keep an opponent out for long. I don’t have to walk into the ring if I’ve got projectiles!” He raises his left hand and glowing orange bones launch from the air above him towards you. You do your best to roll out of the way, but you fail to dodge the last one, which nicks your side. Thankfully, it didn’t catch any stitches.  
_Keep him moving; if he’s got me running, I’m at the disadvantage._ You manifest fire in front of you, and the circle weakens.  
“What are you trying to do there? That circle’s your only defensive measure!” Red scolds you, then launches more orange projectiles. You send the fire into a tailspin in front of you, creating a tornado of sorts. The fire burns through the orange bones coming at you directly, then you dissipate it back into the circle.  
“You’re doin’ great, Y/N. Those orange attacks I’m launching at you won’t hit you if you’re moving when they touch you. But since your foot’s fucked up, it’s gonna be tougher to evade. That barrier you put up nulls your weak spot.” Then he bares his teeth at you and--- teleports directly into your space, trying to push you to the ground again. This time, you use his momentum against him and sent him past you; he drags his feet on the concrete and skids to a stop. You’re both panting, and your hands hurt again, but not as bad.  
He grabs a table for support as he tries to catch his breath. “Whew…. That wasn’t bad at all. Feel any better?” Surprisingly, yeah, you do.  
“That was awesome. Was it really necessary to pin me like that, though?” You gripe playfully.  
“There’s more than one way to relieve tension, dollface,” he replies, a lascivious look in his eyes. You look away. “Wasn’t I gonna shower at Blue and Stretch’s place?”  
“Oh, right. Yeah, let’s get you cleaned up. Did you tear any stitches?”  
“No, not this time, actually. I’m starting to get used to having them,” you reply. “My ankle hurts like a bitch, though, so you’ll have to carry me back.”  
“Carry you? Heh. I was callin’ ya princess as a joke, Sunshit. I’ll balance you out but I’m sure as hell not carryin’ you.”  
You throw your broken foot upon the table. There’s a little blood on the cast and your toes are purple.  
“Oh, shit! Sorry about that. Guess I should’ve thought this through a little more,” Red apologizes, scratching the back of his skull.  
“Nah, don’t blame yourself. I’m the one who agreed to it. You can make it up to me by carrying me, though.” Red scoops you up in his sweaty palms. “Spoiled fuckin’ brat,” he mutters, toting you back to the hallway.  
“All right, I gotta set you down to ring the doorbell,” he pants.  
You ring the doorbell with your lightly toasted hand. “You’re not getting off that easy, Cherry.”  
“Goddamn it, princess,” he begs. “I’m tired as hell. A couple minutes on the ground aren’t gonna kill you.”  
“Yeah, they will,” you echo him. “Welcome to Underfell and all.”  
“I need ta start watching what I’m sayin’ around you,” Red mopes, defeated.  
You hear some commotion from inside the apartment. “Papy, get the door! I think it’s the human! Her magic is nearby!”  
“If I have to,” Stretch laments.  
The door opens.  
“Think fast, beanpole,” Red taunts, and basically drops you in Stretch’s arms. He catches you without a problem.  
“I’m not a hot potato, dipshit,” you growl at him. But there’s not so much anger in your voice now.  
“Yeah,” Stretch adds. “More like a shining star.”  
“Wha--- stop making jokes about my fucking bra!”  
“Oh, so that’s what you were lookin’ for at Grillby’s last night,” Red jokes, poking you in the ribs. “I’m sure the smarmy purple bastard would be happy to oblige. Until you destroyed his bar, of course.”  
“I think I’d rather burn my own hands off, thank you. Don’t you have somewhere to be?” You protest.  
“Actually, I do need to talk to him. Hehehe, I think you’d better start reconsiderin’ that ‘burning your hands off’ spiel if you wanna survive what’s coming,” Red chuckles.  
“What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?” You struggle to reach him, but he’s already walking away.  
“Later, princess. I have somewhere to be,” Red shrugs, and waves goodbye behind him. “See ya, beanpole. I don’t think Y/N here is dumb enough to ask me to help her shower.”  
“Smart choice,” Stretch replies. “See you later, Red.” He closes the door and sets you down on what might be the softest couch you’ve ever used in your life. You’re basically sinking into it, and you let out a contented sigh.  
“So, human, the Captain using the entire building’s hot water again tonight?” Stretch asks, settling down next to you and passing you a hard cider.  
“That’s what Red says he usually does,” you chuckle. “It’s not that hard to imagine. That house is fucking spotless. If it weren’t for how loud Edge is, I’d assume it’s a real estate model or something. Until you get to Red’s room, it looks like no one lives there.”  
“Or until the master of the house starts screaming at the top of his lungs,” you add. Stretch chuckles.  
Suddenly, two gloved hands slammed down on your shoulders. You try to muffle the screech that comes out of your mouth, and Blue giggles behind you. “Mwheheheheh! Got you, human?”  
“That could have made me tear my stitches, you know,” you whine.  
“Would that have you… in stitches?” Stretch emphasizes his horrible joke.  
“No, that would have me out of them. That’s how ripping your stitches works,” you rest your head on your palm.  
Blue loops his arms around you and puts his head on your shoulder. “Sorry about that, human! I just couldn’t resist. Can I offer you some monster candy to make up for it?”  
“Woah, monster candy?” Your eyes widen. “You actually have some? I couldn’t, Blue. That shit’s expensive.” You pause. “Also, please let go of me, if you don’t mind.”  
“Don’t mind if I do,” Blue retorts, and lets go of you, letting his hands brush over your shoulders.  
“Okay, back in a second! Stretch, behave, okay?” Blue yells as he runs off to the kitchen.  
“Sure thing, bro.” Stretch chucks one of those honey suckers into his mouth and somehow reclines even deeper into the couch than before. “Want one?”  
“Sure. Wait, how do you eat these? Or anything, for that matter? Sorry I’ve only seen a couple skeletons on the way to places before today and yesterday.”  
“Magic, sugar.” A long, orange tongue slips out from between his teeth and he takes a long, slow lick from the lollipop. Blood rushes to your cheeks, so you try to compensate by crossing your arms and ripping the plastic open with your teeth. Which you may or may not want surgically sharpened after seeing Edge and Red. For science, of course.  
“Sorry, did I startle you?” Stretch asks. There’s a bit of an orange glint in his eyesockets, and he winks at you.  
“I thought Blue told you to behave, you goddamn tease. I’m only here to get a shower and go home---- back. To Edge’s place. Because I’m too fucked up to go home.”  
“Wait, shit! My meds!” You suddenly jolt up, making Stretch choke a little.  
“Your----ohhhh. Oh, jeez. Okay,” Stretch chews on his phalanges, worried. “All right. Where do you live?”  
“No. Don’t you fucking dare. I can wait until tomorrow and jump on my bike for them,” you resist.  
“Sorry honey, but you’re not skipping those. Those are bone-ficial to your health, and I’m fucking miserable without mine. Where do you live?” He demands. There’s a commanding tone to his voice that halves your bravado. Your knees get a little shaky. You mumble your address, facing the other way.  
“Come on, honey. I know a shortcut.”  
“A shortcut? From the skyline by the balcony, no shortcut is gonna get us past late night traffic in less than an hour and a half,” you calculate.  
“Impressive, but no. I mean like this one.” Stretch grabs your hand, gripping it tightly. The couch, the room, the world just _dissolves_ under your feet. You try to scream, but it’s like warm, thick oil is flooding your throat and nose. You muffle your mouth, eyes wide with terror, with Stretch unfazed all the while. When he notices your reaction, though, he wraps you in his arms and holds tight until the awful sensations pass, and your feet touch the hardwood of your apartment.  
You wrest Stretch away from you and sprint for your kitchen trash can, vomiting everything you just ate into the bag. Your hands are shaking so hard that the can is shaking from where you’re gripping it. Fire starts to curl around your fingers, and you snatch your hands away from the now melted plastic rim. The burning plastic smell worsens your nausea, and you lie down to try to stop your gag reflex. The ceiling light- which you’ve always hated- is spinning, and your body won’t stop writhing in shock. Your burning hot hands singe the floor around you and you make the mistake of trying to brace yourself, only to pull your hands away howling in pain. You can see Stretch through your distorted vision, but you can’t look at him right now. You struggle to crawl away from him for the bathroom, but he grabs your ankles. Unfortunately, that just makes you panic harder.  
“FUCKING LET GO!!!” You screech, saliva flying from your mouth.  
“Dammit, kid, I’m not just gonna stand there and watch you suffer!”  
“THEN STAND SOMEWHERE ELSE,” Your fire circle is back around you, distorting around the edges. Stretch backs away, then lifts a hand. Your SOUL is ripped out of your chest and you’re frozen still. Your fire takes on a deep blue glow before disappearing.  
Tears you don’t remember crying stream down your face, but you can barely feel them. You can barely feel anything at all, except resignation. Your limbs lay flat, and you lay your head on the ground. Your breath isn’t stuttering anymore, at least.  
“Come here,” Stretch croaks, out of breath too.  
“I can’t.”  
“Oh. Right. I’m gonna touch your SOUL. Is that okay?” He asks gently.  
“I can’t stop you.”  
“Stop that, Y/N. Your consent is important to me. This wouldn’t have happened if I’d just explained myself before. So I’ll ask you again, and I expect an answer. Can I touch your SOUL?”  
Your mind would usually be screaming _no, no, no, absolutely not, don’t_ , but goddamnit. You need the comfort and you don’t have the strength to deny it. You nod weakly.  
“Okay. This is gonna feel… personal.”  
“Ew,” you wrinkle your nose.  
“You can say no,” Stretch insists.  
“Do it. I--- I can’t keep…” you choke.  
You hear Stretch shift towards you, sitting by your side. “I know,” he whispers mournfully. “Here I go.”  
You can kind of feel a part of you being pulled away, but you’re not afraid like you expected. You feel cradled, like some massive presence is shouldering your grief for a while.  
_I knew from the moment I met you that something big was hurting you. I can see the cracks in your SOUL now. How have you even lived this long?_ you hear Stretch without him talking. Normally such an invasion would have you on your feet, fists up. But it makes you feel even better.  
You can move your body now, so you sit up by Stretch. He pulls his forehead away from your SOUL, startled. Then he sets it delicately back in your hand.  
“Come on. Where are your meds?” He asks, helping you walk on your ankle.  
“This way. Shit, I’m so sorry for yelling at you, Stretch.”  
“Nah, don’t worry about it. I really should’ve warned you.”  
You stand on your tiptoes and struggle for the top shelf. Stretch laughed. “Why’s your medicine all the way up there?”  
“I babysit. And my kids are nosy,” you grunt. Stretch moves your hand off the shelf and grabs three bottles.  
“I had it.”  
“Maybe in an hour or so you would. But we need to get home before Blue gets worried.”  
“... Please don’t tell him about this.”  
He looks out the window, a grim expression on his face. “No can do. I already learned the hard way not to keep secrets from my brother.”  
You sigh. “Take me back to Edge’s place, Stretch. I don’t want to be here anymore.” You lean into his hoodie, inhale, and shut your eyes.  
“You sure you can handle this?” He braces you as hard as he can.  
“Yeah.”  
The second time it’s not so bad. You figure out that the more slowly you breathe wherever it is Stretch takes you between these shortcuts, the easier it is.  
Stretch lays you down on the couch, holding onto one of your hands.  
“Papy!” Blue scolds. “I’ve been texting you! Where did you---” Stretch looks at his brother, eyes narrowed. _Later._  
_I’ll remind you._  
_I know._

Blue escorts you to the bath. You wonder if you smell like vomit as you walk.  
“My brother used his magic on you, didn’t he?” Blue comments out of the… well.  
“How did you know?” You gape.  
“All magic is affected by what it interacts with. Tinted, kind of. If I or another monster looks hard enough, we can see other colors in your SOUL that have been temporarily left behind. It’s kind of like a sense of smell. Visually, you’d have to have fought for a long time before another monster’s colors start showing up on your SOUL. Fought, or…” Blue blushes and opens the door, tugging you in and closing it behind you.  
“You know I don’t really need help taking a bath right now, right?”  
“Human, I have fallen over enough times in this bathroom from something I thought didn’t warrant attention to know otherwise,” Blue laughs. “Honestly, Stretch helped me hold my bones together during my reckless years.”  
“You. Had a rebellious phase?” You scoff.  
“Had, human? I’m offended?” Blue snorts, turning his nose up and placing a gloved hand to his chest. “I’m still a handful. I’ve just learned from my past mistakes a bit.”  
You can’t help but laugh. “Sorry, but you’re the biggest cinnamon roll out of everyone I’ve met. Even your motorcycle is an adorable color and build. Though kind of frat-boyish,” you finish, your nose twitching with mild disdain.  
“Says the human who can’t drive,” Blue snickers. “It’s a lot easier to pull off nefarious japes with this baby-blue look I’ve got going! No one suspects a thing! I’ve been spiking the eggnog at our inter-skeleton Gyftmas parties for six years and no one’s figured out it’s me!” He cups your hand, with that weird, floating touch that makes you tingle. “You won’t tell, will you?”  
“I mean, how can I? I expect to go home in, like, 3 days.”  
Blue shrugs. “Just watch your back if you ever change your mind. I may or may not have snapped a picture of you and Edge at the balcony,” he smirks, those bright blue eyes almost sparking with mischief.  
“You creepy little bastard,” you grin. “I’m impressed. So, how are we gonna do this? Also you can put your phone in the drawer. While I watch.”  
“Okay, fair’s fair, human!” Blue raises his hands, with his phone in his right, and places it in the botton cabinet under the sink.  
You start to take your shirt off, only to see him still staring with a huge smile on his face.  
“What the hell is wrong with you? You’ve already seen half of what I have to offer. Stop acting so goddamn excited, you tiny freak,” you reprimand him, frowning and looking away.  
“If the last fifteen lays have told me anything, it’s nothing to look at, anyway,” you mutter almost inaudibly as Blue turns around, even though he’s gonna see you fully naked in a couple of minutes. You know it’s silly. But nothing (other than maybe that first shortcut with Stretch) makes your stomach turn like the rare occasion when you remove your clothes and some moron is watching your every move like he’s looking at Renaissance art.  
You set all of your (Red’s) clothes in a uniform pile and throw your undergarments as far from you as you can get them.  
“You can turn around now, I guess.”  
Blue turns to face you, and you see his face change color faster than a cheap mood ring. He’s the same shade as his eyes, which have… stars in them? You grimace and walk past him. “How does this shower work?”  
“Y/N, you’re absolutely----”  
“ **Save it.** ” You start fiddling with the knobs yourself, until you figure out how to stop the drain and get the water to a good temperature. Then you watch the water fill the tub, not saying anything.  
Blue audibly gulps. After a few minutes, he slams his hands onto the sink.  
“I can’t! And I won’t! You’re one of the most beautiful humans I’ve ever seen!”  
“What? No! What did we just talk about?” You turn, almost offended. “I--- I will kick you out of your own bathroom if you don’t knock it off!”  
But Blue isn’t having it. He puts one foot up on the toilet lid and points at you, face full of conviction.  
“I know that tone of voice! I hear it when I tell Papy that I’m proud of him for not smoking anymore, and when I congratulate Sans for doing his laundry, and when I take Edge out for drinks to celebrate his latest promotion! I never stood for it before, and you’re no exception, human. Now come on!” He shouts. “Let’s take a fucking bath!”  
You’re frazzled and confused to say the least, but there’s something about that enthusiasm that you just _can’t say no to_.  
Your smile feels out of place on your face, but you push it anyway. “Okay. Let’s take a breath first, though. Wait. Are you getting in too or something?” You raise an eyebrow. That’ll show him for trying to fluster you.  
But he just snickers and turns towards you, eyes lidded with a smirk on his face.  
“Only if you want me to, Y/N,” he purrs. You jolt and basically fall into the tub, terrified. How did he go from zero to a hundred so fast? Seriously, as if your nerves weren’t clinically wracked already. These skeletons were gonna be the end of you.  
Blue almost doubles over in laughter. “Relax, Y/N! Oh, stars, it was just a jape! You should have seen the look on your face!”  
“W----*cough* You should have seen the look on **yours**! That was the most jarring tonal shift I’ve ever seen in my life!” You struggle to talk between getting water out of your throat.  
“Mweheheh, well, theatre is one of my majors at the school nearby. I forget what the other two are right now.”  
“You’re TRIPLE majoring?!” You sputter, almost starting another coughing episode. “I can barely manage four credits per semester.  
He stands even taller somehow, basking in the praise like a spoiled cat. “What can I say? I’ve always loved focusing my attention on multiple things. Part of it is that I couldn’t narrow it down to just one. What kind of bath stuff do you like, Y/N? I have epsom salt, lavender oil, and--- and that’s it! Nothing else!” He sweats.  
You squint at the cabinet, but he slams it shut. Did you actually see what you think you saw?  
“Those were----”  
“They were Tide pods, human! Stretch must have misplaced them again, the lazybones!”  
“Those are Lush Shoot For the Stars bath bombs,” you stare him down, trying not to smirk.  
“D--don’t judge me, human!”  
“I wouldn’t have judged you if you hadn’t tried to hide them like they’re a stolen porn magazine,” you laugh raucously. Blue pouts and turns so blue that he’s almost purple. “Seriously, though. I would want one, but they’re expensive, so I understand if you don’t want to share them.”  
You didn’t even finish your sentence before Blue shoved three of them in your hands.  
“Blue, I only need one! Won’t this clog the bathtub or something?”  
“ **I’ll unclog it** ”, Blue snaps maniacally, eyelights completely out. It’s scarier than Edge’s glowing eyes in the corner of the room.  
“Bombs away,” you wink at him and drop the fizzers.  
“UGH!!!” Blue completely deflates. “You ruined it with a pun! It’s like bathing Papyrus all over again!”  
“Hey, what’s the matter, Blueberry? You were acting super bubbly a minute ago! I soap-pose puns aren’t your brand of humor,” you press on, seeing him visibly wince with each joke.  
“Just take the soap already so I can scrub your back!” He groans.  
“Don’t worry, I’ll stop. I can see you’re getting fizzibly upset,” you throw one more in out of malice and reach for the soap.  
As soon as the soap touches your hands, you scrub them together and blow a bubble at Blue, which pops in his face.  
“Woah! How did you do that?” He stares in wonderment.  
“I don’t know. I’ve always been able to, but when I try to explain it to someone else, they never quite get it.” The burst bubble has scattered golden glitter all over Blue’s face.  
“There’s glitter on your face, Blue. Not that it doesn’t suit you.”  
“Mwehehehe, I do use highlighter sometimes. Some people give you weird looks, but those people haven’t learned how to live yet!”  
You carry on talking about makeup as you scrub your body, carefully avoiding your abdomen and keeping your foot out of the water.  
“You ready for me to get your hair and back? I noticed you burned your hands again. How’d that happen?” Blue inquires.  
“Yeah, I’m ready. Red noticed I was tensed up, so he wanted to teach me how to fight better.”  
“But wouldn’t he tell you not to summon magic directly to your hands?” He presses, as he lathers his phalanges with shampoo. Why did they even have shampoo in the house?  
“Well…. Okay. I remembered that I left my pills at my house because I took them before I went to Sparkby’s, and Stretch really wanted me to get them as soon as possible, so he used a shortcut. Without telling me what I was in for.”  
The color drains from Blue’s face, and he turns a sickly shade of teal. “Oh, stars, Y/N. I am so sorry that happened! I remember the first time Papy had to get me out of a situation fast. I cried for hours after we landed.” He seems to be tearing up from the memory alone.  
“Hey, hey, I’m okay.” Blue looks at you skeptically. “Okay. Maybe I threw up into my kitchen trash can and had a giant panic attack. But Stretch helped me out! He even held down my SOUL and ever---”  
Blue stiffens, eyelights shrinking to pinpricks.  
“Stretch. Touched your SOUL.”  
“Uh… yeah. What is it about you short stacks and trying to save my SOUL from your older brothers?”  
“First of all, I’m older than Stretch. And that’s not a question I feel comfortable answering right now.” Blue lowers his shoulders and takes a deep breath, before grabbing a soft sponge and gently scrubbing your back.  
His touch is focused, but so gentle that you start to nod off a couple times. You even sigh a little, despite yourself. It’s kind of quiet, but you don’t mind. It’s been an eventful day.  
“Are you awake, Y/N?”  
With some effort, you pry your eyes open. “Yeah, I am. Not by much, though.”  
Blue sits in front of you, outside of the tub, and meets your eyes.  
“Would you like me to do anything else?” He asks smoothly, and you feel your nipples harden in the bathtub. Why the fuck does he keep playing you like this? So much for “not being dumb enough to choose Red”. You deliberately sink to avoid any stupid questions or assumptions.  
“Um… Can I have some time to myself? I’ll call you when I need help getting out,” you rush your words. “Also some more hot water?”  
“Mwehehehehe! Sure thing, Y/N. See you in an hour!” Blue exclaims, snapping you out of your discomfort-- partially, anyways. He lets the water run for a bit, then leaves, waving goodbye with a resplendent smile.  
You release the air you’d been holding in your lungs. “Okay. If I ever let him bathe me again, I could die. I’m gonna have to ask Red, aren’t I?” You groan, sinking all the way into the bath. The tiles are polished to a high sheen. All of what you presume to be Blue’s products are stashed in order of use on an over-the-shower caddy. Stretch’s stuff seems to be crammed into the corners below it. You take care to keep your ankle away from his things.  
You tend to go on tirades in your own tub, so you continue, since it calms you down. “Like, seriously. Who isn’t gonna flirt with me around here? Well, Edge. I should stick by him. Maybe Stretch. Fuck, I wish Agatha was here. She’d put me at ease.” In your ranting, you knock over Stretch’s… shampoo. Seriously! What does he need it for? That at least reminds you that you’re in someone else’s bathroom.  
“Blue, I’m done! Can you help me up?”  
He’s there in a flash. Are you the only one in this place who can’t teleport, or is Blue just that fast on his own two feet? He helps you up and passes you a towel to dry yourself off.  
“Did you make use of your alone time?” He giggles. Why. What does he gain from trying to throw you like that? You nod. “Yeah. Sure,” you nod curtly. You’re about to put the same clothes on, but Blue hands you your favorite pajamas and clean underwear.  
“How did you get this? Should I even ask?”  
“Papy shortcutted to your place so that you could have some clothes of your own while you’re here!”  
“Thanks, Blue. Help me hook my bra on, will you? The rest I should be good to do without help.”  
Blue seems to sense your unhappiness, and assists you without saying anything. “There. Need anything else, Y/N?”  
“No. Thanks, though. Really. For the bath and stuff. See you later,” You sigh, collecting the rest of your things and limping into the corridor.  
“Uh, bye, Y/N! Stop by again soon!” He forces cheerfulness into his voice.  
“See ya, Blueberry. Bye, Stretch,” you say as you pass the couch.  
“Hey, honey, Red’s already here to get you. See you later.”  
You acknowledge Red, but stay mostly quiet on the way back. He drops you off in Edge’s room and returns to settle into his own room. You take your pills and set the bottles on the bedroom drawer. Your clothes from yesterday, or what’s left, are hung up on the closet door now. Your jacket and boots survived, but your doll shirt is basically shreds in a bag.  
You look over at your phone. Angry texts from Helen. A polite rescheduling request from Toriel. Muffet asking if you’re okay. You can’t bring yourself to answer a single one. Your hands sting, but it’s something bigger than that.  
You feel like you’re about to burst. You shove your face into the pillow, dig your fingers into your hair, and scream soundlessly into it, until your tears shake your whole body.  
“There’s just no fucking escape. Even when I have a perfectly good day,” you whimper to no one in particular. “It always comes back. Everything comes back. I---- I can’t. I can’t. Not anymore. Not tonight. Not ever again.” You stand, legs wobbling underneath you, and open the door without a sound. Every step hurts, and you need your hands to guide you in the dark. You stub your leg on the corners of every piece of furniture, but you know how to take pain in silence as well.  
You can’t shake the feeling that someone is watching you struggle, but you try to rationalize it away. If it were Red, he’d already be calling you a klutz and laughing, and Edge would probably startle you by accident trying to ask what you’re doing awake.


	4. Chapter 4: A SOUL Shard a Day...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Read tries to catch a breather from her busy day, but someone awaits her who wants to take her breath away. Literally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter has a lot of disturbing imagery in it, and some body horror, along with the usual stuff. There is some fluff at the end, I promise! A special thanks to [rbssns](http.rbssns.tumblr.com)

Chapter 4: A SOUL Shard A Day  
You drag your foot behind you and shut the door. Your stitches are leaking, but they haven’t snapped, so you press onward, as far as you can. You have to take a couple of breaks, but eventually you reach the balcony. You can’t be in that goddamn house anymore.   
As you move, you feel as if you’re being watched, but there is nothing behind you. You CHECK behind you, multiple times. You get the same things each time. *It’s a wall. *It’s a door.   
You fumble for the door, but stop in your tracks.  
Something is already there, facing outwards to the skyline. Floating in mid-fucking-air.  
It’s hard to place a name to the shape, but it billows, like cloth, and seems to melt into the color of the night sky. You wouldn’t have seen it at all if it didn’t move.  
The suspicion expands across your body and rattles your entire SOUL. You can feel it trying to come out. Trying to move as far away from where you are walking as possible. You mentally yank it back to where it needs to be.   
You’ve seen teleportation before, with Stretch and possibly Red, but straight up floating: is that even possible? Your bodyguard years kick in and you start listing off as much as you can see about this individual. Fuck CHECKing that thing--- monsters, if this even is one, can probably tell when you do it. Your position would be compromised, if it doesn’t already know where you are.  
You can’t see it very well. Best to fight with your other senses; if this creature wants to confront you, sight will be nothing but a distraction.  
It can fly.  
It’s looking right at you.  
You brace yourself, but it doesn’t seem to be approaching. It’s just… staring. With one silver eye. It hurts so much to look at them directly that your eyes start watering. You step onto the balcony.  
**Sit with me** , the thing speaks, still shrouded besides its eyes. It’s…. Hard to pinpoint from where it’s speaking. It doesn’t even register as noise, but you can hear it.  
“Hell no. How do you even sit, anyway?” you croak. Damn. Why does your mouth have to say stuff like that even when you’re in deep shit?  
The thing chortles dryly. **Inconsequential. It doesn’t matter how close or far away you are. I can easily reach for you.**  
“With what hands?” you answer. You suck in air to still your pounding heart. “How long have you been here?”  
**You’re not gonna ask me what I am?**  
“That would be a waste of time,” you try to still the quavering in your voice. It doesn’t matter what it is. You’re trained to know when something wants to hurt you. And this body language(?), tone of voice(?)... it’s indescribable. All you know is that it makes your skin crawl, and your SOUL wanted to leave before you even saw it in the sky.  
You stare past its eyes into its robe. Might as well know some things about the last thing you’ll ever see. Even if you asked, it would probably lie to you.  
**\-----------------------  
*DEF: -- ATK: -- HP: --/--  
*There is nowhere you could have run. The cracks run deep.**  
**I see you’ve picked up a couple of parlor tricks since you started. But do you really think that’s enough to help you?** The thing settles onto the ground like tar, but slowly bleeds back into itself and forms a pillar. What looks like a skull and hands drift out of the tar into their proper places, and the tar solidifies into a slender, humanoid form. The thing’s hands are numerous, and the ones not attached to its arms are behind its back, rotating slowly in a circle.  
“Wait a second. Reach? That’s the last joke I’m gonna hear before you kill me?”  
The thing’s skull warps into a grin, **Ah. You have a sharp mind. So sharp that it’s been cutting into your SOUL all your life. I am not here to kill you, mage. You will do it yourself, if you continue as you are. I am here to conserve the resources you treat so carelessly.**  
“You don’t fucking know that,” you growl, fear dissolving into comfortable anger.  
**I once knew everything. I longer exist in that state, but I have an excellent memory regardless.** You CHECK it again, and again, but its stats keep fluctuating.  
_What the fuck do I do… this thing won’t even give me time to call for help._   
**Worry not; I only need but a piece of your SOUL for my research, before you destroy it.**  
The thing can invade your mind.  
The fear returns full force. You collapse, unable to move. You can’t even breathe.   
It chuckles, all around you. **I cannot read minds, mage. I told you; I simply have an excellent memory of the infinite knowledge I was previously bestowed. I can recall most of what you may think, or have thought before.** It hovers just out of your reach, one leg crossed over another, and smiles at you. **You could say I’ve been paying you special attention**.  
“If you know everything, then you should know how much I hate being doted on.”   
**It’s not hate, my subject. It’s fear. You feel that someone may hurt you.** It drifts down to you, placing many hands on your arms and legs and grasping tightly. **In this case, Y/N…. your fears were correct.**  
“You’re not supposed to be here,” you mumble. The hands draining your strength faster than even Red’s magic absorption.  
The thing’s face twists and turns, until it begins to resemble a skeleton. There’s two massive gashes down his eyes, and his conjured glasses reflect your petrified face back to you.  
 **I did not cross the VOID to rest in between it empty-handed. Bring out your SOUL, Y/N.**  
“Take it yourself,” you cough. Droplets of blackness splatter onto your shirt.  
 **BRING OUT YOUR SOUL!** It screams, sending shrill static through your ears.  
“I don’t know what you expected to happen, doing all this creepy shit…” you cough again. It’s getting harder to breathe through the phlegm. “Only to politely ask me to give you my fucking SOUL. Is this your idea of MERCY or something?” You chortle, trying to reach for your throat, but to no avail. Something in that word has power, but you’re not sure what it is.  
 **I WILL NOT GO BACK WITHOUT IT. GIVE ME YOUR SOUL OR I WILL RIP IT OUT OF YOU!**  
Then you get it. And he knows you did as well. “You can’t.”  
 **Of course I can** , he answers without missing a beat.  
“Liar,” you grin, the tar dripping out of your mouth. “You can’t touch it. You can’t touch anything without damaging it. You want my SOUL? You’ll play by my rules.”  
 **Or I could simply hold on, until you rot in my hands.** Now that it’s got a human (sort of) face, its expressions are a lot easier to read. It’s posturing. It’s been posturing since you walked out of Red’s apartment.  
“Bullshit, Mr. ‘Literally-Knows-It-All’. You can’t touch my SOUL and you don’t want to kill me, so you’re stalling. Let go of me, and we’ll discuss this over coffee tomorrow.”  
 **You impudent---Fine! You got me. I can’t touch your SOUL. I’m not even supposed to be touching you, or the floor, or anything, but you forced my hands.** He’s loosened his grip, and one hand is pinching his nasal ridge. You shrug his hands off and stand up.  
“See? That wasn’t so hard. No need to get all handsy with a bitch you just met,” you laugh nervously. You’re trying to play it off, but your body has not recovered from the shock it’s just gotten. “What’s your name? Or did you leave that in the VOID thing with your manners and your sense of boundaries?”  
The thing… well, the monster’s face turns a greyish purple.  
“You’ll just laugh if I tell you. You may call me Doctor, for now.”  
You guffaw despite yourself. “Doctor? What kind of roleplay bullshit is that? We just had a discussion about boundaries.”  
He flushes even brighter. “No! That is absolutely not what I meant! Now I know you are just trying to get a rise out of me!”  
“Fine. Doctor Nerd it is. All the other skeletal assholes I’ve met in this building have nicknames, so if you don’t give me the real deal, I get to pick. And you don’t want that.” His mouth is agape with indignation, and all of his hands are forming fists.   
“My name is Dr. W. D. Gaster, and I cannot believe that I left the safety and knowledge of the VOID for hundreds of years just to take this kind of slander from a subject!”  
“But Dr. Nerd, I thought you knew everything and anything that could ever have happened here!” You’re in stitches. How could you have ever thought this dork was going to kill you?  
“I----The VOID’s knowledge was incapable of rendering me the knowledge of what would occur throughout spacetime after I emerged from the outer skirts. I---- I was bluffing. Well, technically it wasn’t entirely bluffing. I was making my best guess based on the previous information I managed to memorize about you and the other potential participants.”  
“What happened to those guys?” You chuckle.  
“.....” Gaster doesn’t answer. You decide not to press it for now. Eventually, he confesses anyway.  
“The other mages I had in mind were… too powerful and experienced, and most of them knew each other. If I went after one of them, I would soon be in over my skull. Or their SOULs were feeble and incapable of possessing the necessary power for my work.”  
“So you single out the runt and scare the tar out of her. I like how you think, G.” Gaster shudders, his hands going stiff.  
“Wait--- the other boneheads... I didn’t even think about them! I-----I need to go, Y/N. Also, if you see Sans and Papyrus, don’t tell them about me. I was never here.” Gaster’s legs begin to melt; he’s preparing to leave.  
“Wait!” You grab for his coat, a wave of nausea passing through you on contact.  
“Y/N! What did I just say about touching? What is it? I really must be going.”  
“Which Sans and Papyrus are we talking about?”  
 **Fuck.**  
“Please use your outside voice, Doctor.”  
“Ah. Right. None of them. None of them can know.”  
“B---but---”  
“But what, subj--- Y/N?”  
“You don’t have anywhere to stay, do you? You’re just gonna hole up in whatever in-betweeny VOID thing, aren’t you?” You ask.  
Gaster sighs and nods. “Yes. It’s not the most comfortable place in the universe, but it’ll do for now. I can’t risk the other inhabitants hearing of me.”  
“Stay at my place!” You blurt.  
“What? I couldn’t possibly. Lingering here is a massive magical expenditure beyond your comprehension. You’re too kind, subject, though, truly. Damn it. Y/N. If I can remember the shifting locations of every single national portal I can remember this.”  
“No worries, Dr. Nerd. All of these assholes have picked nicknames for me too, except Edge. Because he’s never fucking home.” You pause and try to think of a solution, hanging onto G’s hand all the while. Only because you know if you let go he’ll literally disappear.   
“How much magic do you need?”   
Gaster tries to recoil, but instead, his entire body moves _except_ his hand.  
“You can’t possibly produce that! Why, it’d cause a massive explos------ I forbid it, subject.” He tries to cross his arms, but with one missing a hand, it looks ridiculous. He shuffles one of his extras to replace the one in your palm. “You literally almost died last time. I am not risking losing a valuable research subject for the promise of a comfortable bed to sleep in.”  
“Come on! That was when I didn’t know what I was doing!” You protest.  
“You _still_ don’t know what you’re doing,” Gaster quips, an exhausted look on his face.  
You flash Gaster a shark-like grin. “Well, that’s too bad. I guess I just won’t let go of your hand until you let me take you home.”  
“You’ll die approximately 2.452 seconds after the sun rises if you hold onto my hand all night. It will be a supremely unpleasant experience. You should start feeling lightheaded right about...” You stagger, but land yourself in a nearby chair. “Now. I can’t afford to waste time and life like this.”  
“Then let me blow you away, G,” you waggle your eyebrows at him. He groans in frustration.  
“You’re not going to let go, are you.”  
“Nope. Even if I pass out.”  
“That is not listed under my list of symptoms from VOID infection. My best bet is for you to fall asleep, actually. Stars, this is so unnatural for me. It’s been literally an infinity since I’ve held hands with anyone.”  
“You make me sick, Doctor,” you use your other hand to give Gaster finger guns.  
“Then let go.”  
“Fight me.”  
“I tried.”  
It’s been about two hours. You’ve never felt this sick in your life. Your nose is clogged with black goo, and you have to swallow every couple of seconds to pop your ears. Your free hand is covered from snot you’ve had to wipe off your face.   
“This is getting ridiculous,” Gaster huffs. “And you’re going to die in 5 more hours. If you let go now, the after-effects will be a mild cold.”  
“Isn’t it?” you snort. “Sleep in my goddamn house. Sleep with me in the room I’m squatting in. Sleep somewhere comfortable, G. All you have to do is give up.”  
Gaster mumbles a yes and snatches his hand away from you. Immediately, your sinuses are almost completely cleared.   
“Ready for it, Doc?” You shout with excitement.  
“Shussssh! You’ll wake the others! Now, do you know how to prepare an orange attack?” Gaster backs up to give you both adequate room.  
“No, just how to block them. Kind of.”  
“Stars, who’d they choose to teach you?”  
“Nobody yet. Red and I just felt like sparring.”  
Gaster facepalms with four of his hands. “Fantastic. Well, the first thing you want to do is channel the trait of bravery, and think as hard as you can about driving your opponent into a corner. Orange attacks can only hurt a completely still target, so think about making me move. It might not be your full strength attack, since bravery isn’t your primary SOUL trait, but it won’t hurt the buildings and dissipates upon contact with its target.”   
“Got it.” You place your hands in front of you, but… you’re still not entirely sure of what to do.  
“Um…. try saying all that again, but in terms I’ll understand.”  
There are so many hands on Gaster’s face that you can barely see him.  
“Picture a kamehameha. Then make it with whatever magic material you primarily use.”  
You almost keel over. Seeing this stuffy old scientist say the words “kamehameha” in a completely serious tone has broken you. Once you calm down, you stand facing him and place your palms together as instructed.  
Your fire starts as a spark, but expands and spins rapidly as it changes from pink to orange.  
“Is this enough?”  
“Just fire it before you wake half the goddamn city, Y/N! They’re going to think the sun is collapsing on them or something!”  
You shift the attack to your left hand and fire it off like a baseball. The flames temporarily envelop Gaster, but he absorbs them shortly afterwards. You limp as quickly as you can toward him. “Did it work?”  
“I don’t know yet. It feels like I have enough magic for the next six hours or so. However, I have to be certain. I’d have to…” Gaster gulps. “Touch someone. If they don’t get sick, I’ll know.”  
Without thinking, you reach for Gaster, but trip over your cast and fall on him.  
“Shit, that burns….” you hiss. Gaster immediately sits you up. “What does? Is it me?”  
“No, no, G. I tripped over my broken ankle. You’re okay. At least, gimme a couple of seconds.” You place your hand on Gaster’s shoulder, and wait. Gaster doesn’t seem to know where to look, but you want to see more of this strange monster, so you stare a bit too hard.  
“Um…. would you mind, subject? I think by now you would know if I am safe.”  
“I’m okay. Come on, Gaster. Let’s get in bed. It’s gonna take too long for you to get to my apartment.”  
“That’s entirely unnecessary, subject!” Gaster backs away, sweating. “Come along. I will show you something.”  
Gaster conjures a pair of pitch-black crutches for you to use. “They will be gone by morning, but they should assist you for now.” You grab them. They’re oddly warm, as if they’re an extension of himself.   
You pass back through the door, and Gaster finds a door you haven’t been in yet. There are some old “For Rent” signs, but they’re curled and worn.   
“This will work,” Gaster mutters, an ebony pencil appearing between his teeth. He chews on it for a second, then touches the door.   
The door drains completely of color, and the signs shrivel.   
“Would you like to come in? It is safe,” he assures you.  
“Will it be gone by morning, too?” You don’t want to get trapped in an empty room.  
“I will be sure to return you to a more believable location before I leave.”  
You hesitate. You’ve probably opened up too much to Gaster already. He is, after all, still a powerful reality bender who wants to steal your SOUL. Your stomach turns a bit when you remember everything he’s just done to you. If anyone else pulled that shit with you, you would have drop-kicked them off the roof.  
Why does this monster put you so at ease?  
“So you actually want me to stay? And it isn’t to steal my SOUL? Because, you could now, if you wanted.”  
“Unfortunately, it’s not that simple. Removing your SOUL from your body at this time would require me to expend the vast majority of magic energy that you have so graciously donated. I would be hurtled right back to my place of origin before I could even grab it. I suppose… it’s been a long time since I’ve had any real company. So… yes.”  
You remember something. “One more question.”  
“What is it, Y/N?” Gaster looks worn out.  
“Is there cell reception in there?”  
“What kind of monster do you think I am? This is an apartment, not a prison cell.”  
You snort, and follow him into the apartment.  
It’s almost completely bare. There are deep gashes in the wallpaper and burns all over the place. Bare and trashed. No wonder the building’s owner can’t rent it.  
“Yikes.”  
“Indeed. There’s only one couch.”  
You go up to it and jostle the cushions around. The couch has a fold-out bed.  
“Well, you’re not spending your first night out of limbo sleeping on the floor. There’s room, and I won’t bother you. Fingers crossed it has no bedbugs,” you chuckle.  
Gaster sighs. “There’s no changing your mind, is there, subject?”  
You shake your head and pat the couch. “Come on, Doctor Nerd. I’m prescribing you 6 hours minimum.”  
“I’m not that kind of doctor,” Gaster sighs, but settles into the couch anyway. You prop your crutches on one of the armrests. Gaster directs some hands towards them and turns the crutches into a large, soft blanket. The hands dump the blanket on you.  
“Well, sleep well, Y/N. And please don’t drool on the blanket.”  
“Good night, Gaster,” you respond mid-yawn. You reach for your phone and text Toriel that you will be available in 3 days. Then you hope you didn’t wake the poor woman by texting her at 3 in the morning.  
You glance over one last time at Gaster, but he’s out cold and choking the life out of one of the cushions with all 16 of his hands.


	5. Chapter 5: What a Short Fuse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader's attempts to cover for her new friend end in disaster.  
> Or should I say disgaster *Thomas the Tank engine plays*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: death/suicide discussion, near-death experiences, depression discussion, brief ableist language, mild nsfw

Chapter 5: What a Short Fuse  
You vaguely remember waking up in Gaster’s arms, but you were too tired to say goodbye. It’s about 8 AM and you regret it. You don’t know why you miss someone who tried for literally immeasurable amounts of time to kill you, but you do.  
Apparently his weakness was puns. What the hell was it with skeletons and puns, anyway? Your thoughts were interrupted by a sharp rap on your door.  
“HUMAN! YOU HAVE LAZED ABOUT IN THIS ROOM FOR LONG ENOUGH! I HAVE MADE EGGS, AND COLD EGGS ARE DISGUSTING, SO YOU’D BEST HURRY UP! AND YOU’D BETTER NOT HAVE SLEPT NAKED LAST NIGHT OR ANYTHING! THAT’S MY GODDAMN BED YOU’RE SLEEPING ON!”  
“I need help to reach the kitchen, Edge! If you would be so gracious as to bless me with your loud and malevolent presence?” You yell back.  
“FINE!” Edge throws the door open. He’s wearing a velvet robe and black pajamas; he even dresses up to go to bed, apparently. He snatches you up, bridal-style again. He’s about to drop you into a chair at the dining table, but he stops. His nasal ridge twitches.  
“Show me your SOUL, human.”  
“Why should I?” You retort. “My SOUL, my business.”  
“YOU ARE IN MY HOME, AND ME AND MY PATHETIC BROTHER ARE YOUR PRIMARY CARETAKERS IN THIS SITUATION.” He squints at you, evaluating your expression.  
“You’re hiding something, human, and I will discover what it is before the end of the day.”  
“Geez, Edge, what a mystery. Maybe it’s my contempt at all this screaming at 8 AM.”  
“Hmmph. Perhaps. I know someone who will be able to tell me for certain. Enjoy your secret while you can, human. I’m going to go wake Red.”  
Edge sets you down, then marches off and pulls a remote out of his front pocket. He slams on the red button in the middle.  
A shrill and ear-piercing alarm rips through your ears. Why the fuck do other tenants put up with this kind of noise? You would have filed a complaint on the first night if someone tried to pull this shit at Muffet’s complex.  
“I’m up, I’m up,” Red groans from his room, resigned. The door slowly opens, and Red shuffles out like a zombie. He’s just in his boxers and an undershirt, and Edge almost throws him back into his room.  
“SANS! I DO NOT WANT TO SEE YOUR ASS OUT HERE UNTIL YOU HAVE CHANGED INTO MORE APPROPRIATE ATTIRE!”  
“Oh, yeah, Boss? Would a star-studded bra do it for ya?” Red responds. They’re never going to let you live that down, are they?  
“It’s fine, Edge. It’s not like I haven’t seen a naked skeleton before.”  
Edge chokes on his next sentence. “WHAT?! WHO IN THE BUILDING DID YOU FUCK LAST NIGHT?! IS THAT THE WEIRD RESIDUE I SMELLED ON YOUR SOUL THIS MORNING?!”  
“Uh, sure. Yeah. That’s my secret. I snuck off in the middle of the night to bang a purple-eyed skeleton. While I was in stitches. And barely able to walk.”  
You feel like Edge would catch your sarcasm if he wasn’t so shocked. “IMPOSSIBLE! AS IF THE BRAT WOULD FUCK A HUMAN AS HARD-HEADED AND INSUFFERABLE AS YOU!”  
Shit! Someone Edge knows matches the description. It can’t be Gaster, since they don’t and shouldn’t know he’s around. That means there’s a bratty skeleton(though the accusation _is_ coming from Edge), possibly in this building, with purple eyes. You make a mental note to avoid him if you see him.  
Red hops out of the room, wearing matching pajamas and ragged bunny slippers.  
“Y/N fucked someone already? I want details. For science, of course.” Red sits at the table and turns to Edge. “You said she fucked Black last night?”  
“APPARENTLY SO! WHY SHE WOULD CHOOSE SUCH A FOUL CREATURE TO BESTOW HER LITTLE CHARM ON IS BEYOND ME. THOUGH I SUPPOSE THEY HAVE THAT IN COMMON.”  
“Uh… Black is.. Not that bad once you get to know him?” Fuck, your lying is horrible. You could do better, but you’d feel weirdly guilty. Not that you’re deeply indebted to these skeletons, but you’ve put your trust in them, and they might be doing so in return.  
“PAH! YOU’VE ONLY KNOWN HIM FOR ONE NIGHT! STARS FORBID YOU TWO ENTER A RELATIONSHIP. NOT EVEN FELL NATION’S KING COULD PROTECT YOU FROM WHAT’S COMING.”  
You hear a knock on the door.  
“Ah, the freeloader committee has arrived. Fan-fucking-tastic. ONE GODDAMN SECOND.”  
Edge undoes all twelve locks on his door. Wait, how did you even get out of here last night? You don’t remember those at all. Did Gaster undo them from inside the apartment? How long has he actually been creeping on you? Edge steps aside to let “the freeloaders” in.  
“Ah, the Edgelord croons his sweet morning call so beautifully,” Stretch taunts and walks on in.  
“GOOD TO SEE YOU TOO, ASHTRAY.”  
“Hey, Edge. Red’s alarm woke me up right on time. Again,” a new voice grumbles. It’s another skeleton, about half a head taller than Red, but not as strong-looking as Blue. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his blue hoodie and kicks his shitty pink slippers into a corner. “Hey, is that the human Stretch phoned me about?”  
“Stretch did what?” You glare at the numbskull in question, but both him and the new skeleton shrug. “News travels fast in this building.”  
Edge glares at the door, but from here, you can’t see who he’s looking at until they come in.  
“You weren’t invited to breakfast, _brat_. Some of us want to enjoy our meal.” Edge grins directly at you. “Didn’t you get enough to eat last night, anyway?”  
Shit. This is the skeleton you never wanted to run into. Why can’t Gaster protect you from the real problems?  
“I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT. I’M HERE TO GET FOOD FOR THE DOG, SINCE HE’S BEDRIDDEN AGAIN AND REFUSES TO EAT MINE.” Huh, Edge wasn’t kidding when he called whoever was at the door a brat. He sounded like Blue, but with a massive hangover. And maybe his period. Did skeletons--- nope. That’s not something you need to know.  
“I think Mutt would actually fall down if he ate a bite of your food right now,” Red smirks.  
“Dude, not cool. Don’t joke about that,” Stretch hisses.  
“JUST FOR THAT SLIGHT, I’LL BE JOINING YOU ASSHOLES FOR BREAKFAST.” You thought Edge’s voice was grating? This fucker is giving you a headache. Heh. Head.  
“Uh, Black, hate to break it to you, but there’s no room at the table,” blue hoodie laughs.  
“THEN I’LL SIT IN THAT HUMAN’S LAP.”  
“I don’t think she’ll let you after last night,” Red snickers.  
A violet bone launches from the door, but Edge summons his own bone club and bats it to pieces. The attack disintegrates into dust.  
“As much as I’d enjoy watching my brother tear you limb from limb, this furniture is far too expensive for you to be frolicking in my house. You can take a seat on the goddamn floor or pull up a chair.”  
“THERE’S NOTHING I HATE MORE THAN BEING THE BUTT OF A JOKE. IF THAT FAT BASTARD HAS SOMETHING TO SAY, HE CAN SAY IT ON THE FIELD OF BATTLE!”  
“Uh… no. It’s fine. Go ahead, Black. Come on in,” you wince. If you’re gonna lie, it’s got to be believable. Even at the cost of your dignity.  
“Hmmm, yes, human. Now this one knows its place,” Black purrs in your direction. Thankfully, it produces a believable reaction in you, so you don’t have to hold your breath to redden your face.  
“So, uh, yeah. Leave your foreplay at your place, Black,” Stretch cuts him off. “Sans, introduce yourself. Black’s already made a grand entrance. Twice, apparently.” he winks at you.  
You’ve worked with Black’s type before, at least from what you can tell. Not thinking that your intimidating appearance was enough, these clients would make grand gestures and poke at the others around them as much as possible. People and monsters like this make you wanna grit your teeth until they’re worn to powder. _For Gaster_ , you chant to yourself. _Do it for the nerd_.  
The brat stomps into the room with the confidence of a runway model, with the most stuck-up look you’ve seen since that one “popular squad” on Peyton’s favorite TV show. He’s got sharp teeth, like Red, but they’re thinner and better polished. Possibly bleached; they’re too white to be natural. His phalanges are so sharpened that they can’t possibly be practical at that point. He’s the only skeleton in the room that’s already dressed for the day. You’ve met him for five seconds and you already want to punch him in the skull, but you wouldn’t, since there’s a massive gash down the left side of his face that you’d be afraid to further fracture.  
“Come on, Black. We’ll have plenty of time to admire you later,” you say through a clenched jaw, and pat your lap. The other skeletons chuckle, but Black seems to think you mean it.  
“Hmmm, this will be far more comfortable than Sargeant Beanpole’s array of wannabe fetish furniture,” Black smirks to you, before sitting on your lap.  
“I assure you that all of the furniture in my home is custom made from a reputable, non-sexual manufacturer. Though it would be you, Black, who’d be the first to smell a knockoff.”  
You “oof” without meaning to. Edge got Black good. Black was Blueberry without the sincerity and Edge without the class.  
“Black, would you mind sitting on one side so that we can both eat comfortably?”  
“Only because I’m in a good mood,” Black replies and scooches. Edge serves the food and pulls up his own chair. You feel bad. Edge is the one who’s been hosting you; you would gladly offer him your lap, or even your chair, instead. Out of respect alone, of course.  
“Also please watch my stitches. And broken ankle. Like before,” you add.  
“Why, certainly. If I’m going to break a human, I’ll do it fairly. Where did you find this one, anyway?” Black chuckles at Edge.  
“One would think you’d heard this story before, but the feisty little shit you’re sitting on is a mage. Red discovered her testing her powers at Sparkby’s new bar. By blowing it to pieces. Thankfully, the only people who were injured besides her are of no consequence. You certainly gave them a run for their money, Y/N.” Black looks much less sure of himself after Edge describes your strength. Is Edge trying to intimidate him for you?  
Instead of answering, you reach around Black and scarf down the food. You know you should be eating more slowly, but _fuck_ if this food isn’t amazing. So much better than the “meal” Red served you yesterday, though you suppose he was just trying to play it safe.  
“Edge, your food is so good. Where have you been all my life?” You moan a bit, just for kicks.  
“THANK YOU, HUMAN,” Edge’s volume goes up with his ego. “THOUGH IF THE WAY TO YOUR LAP IS THROUGH YOUR STOMACH, I DON’T KNOW WHY YOU’RE WASTING YOUR TIME WITH THE WORST COOK OF THE NATIONS. WELL, BESIDES----”  
Every single skeleton glares at Edge like he’s committed a terrible sin, and he shuts his mouth. Weird.  
“So, uh, Black, if you don’t mind me asking, what’s the matter with your dog? Is he a monster dog or like, an animal dog?” At this point you can’t tell who Black and the others are discussing, so you go out on a limb.  
“I’D ADVISE YOU, Y/N, TO ADDRESS BLACK’S BROTHER APPROPRIATELY, LEST YOU FALL INTO MORE OF THE BRAT’S UNCOUTH MANNERISMS.”  
“Wait, you’re talking about his brother?!” Blood rushes to your face; you’re horrified and furious. “Black, what the fuck?! Who calls--- get off me!” You turn to Red. “And why the fuck are you encouraging this?!” You push Black off, but are careful not to knock him off the chair.  
“Wait, sweetheart!” Red calls after you. “It’s not what you think!”  
“How could it be anything else?! I mean, fine. It’s one thing to call your siblings lazy, or have a little fun at their expense. But this is a whole new level.” Everyone’s dead still, staring at you in shock. “Fucking impermissible,” you growl. “I need some fresh air. Red, where are my keys?”  
“I’m not givin’ ‘em to you when you’re like this, Y/N,” Red stands his ground.  
“Then I’ll go out on foot. Edge, thank you for the meal. See you all later.” You give Black the most hateful look you can muster.  
“I don’t want to see you in particular until you’ve got an explanation for your disgusting behavior.”  
Your first thought is to go to the balcony, but you’re sick of looking down at the world. You want to get out of this microcosm and face the world at ground level. As soon as possible.  
You settle down by one of the doors, unable to walk further, and call Muffet.  
The tone rings for a couple of seconds, until Muffet picks up.  
“Webberson Apartments, Ms. Muffet speaking,” she croons cheerfully. It’s her business voice.  
“Hey, Muffet, it’s me.”  
“Oh! Dearie, I’ve been meaning to call you! I heard about the accident down by Grillby’s, but I’ve been positively swamped with clients. Are you alright?” Muffet presses you for details.  
You take a deep breath and unpack the events so far, one by one, except for Gaster. Muffet’s voice is soothing and rich, and she makes you feel cared for.  
“Well, it’s no surprise to us that you’re a mage, Y/N. There was always something a bit off about your SOUL’s energies. Though Agatha and I always assumed it was the injuries--- Oh, gracious! I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have said anything.”  
“No, I know about those, too. Apparently I’m as much of a fuckup as I always thought,” you chuckle.  
“Nonsense, dearie. Most monsters have a couple of minor lesions across their SOULS. Fell Nation monsters usually have more of them, of course. It was a harder life for all of them. When a monster’s SOUL gets too emotionally injured, their Hope Points go down, which makes it easier for them to be killed, or fall down on their own.”  
“Oh. So if a monster’s stuck in bed…”  
“Yes. Unfortunately it usually means that their SOUL is suffering terribly, and that they are fighting for their lives. To most humans, it appears that the monsters are slacking, even though people seem to have a very similar condition.”  
_Shit._ Was that Black’s way of coping with a dying sibling? What the fuck did you just do?  
“Um…. if you don’t mind me asking, how does family usually handle it? When this happens?”  
Muffet sighs. “It depends a lot on their nation and region. When my mother Penelope was dying, I lost myself in this harebrained quest to better things for Spiders across my region. I did many things that I regret to this day, in search of money to save her. Eventually, when I returned to her dust on her favorite couch, I learned the hard way.”  
You wish you could hug her right now, more than anything. You know that journey personally, and exactly where it ends.  
“Muffet... “  
“It was my mistake, dearie, and I don’t want to hear you feel sorry for decisions that I chose to make. But I wish someone had stopped me earlier, truly… maybe I could have spent more time with her instead of my own self-pity. Well, dearie, it is wonderful to hear that you are alive and somewhat well. Would you like me to send anything your way?”  
“Well, actually…yeah. A care package like the ones you make me, but for someone else. A pair of brothers, actually.”

After a long conversation, you hang up. Your ankle is screaming too hard for you to move, but you refuse to call for help.  
The door opens suddenly, and you almost shriek.  
A hunched, withered, almost ghost of a skeleton stares down at you, two cigarettes burning in his mouth. He’s wearing nothing but long winter underwear and an open, black jacket with a fuzzy hood. A ragged, pleather collar hangs around his neck. His ribs are on full display. You try to look away, but his eye sockets follow your gaze.  
“So you’re the one making all the noise,” he mutters through his fangs. His four canines are gold… sharper than Red’s, for sure.  
“Yeah… sorry. Are you Mutt?” You try to stand, but your ankle won’t let you.  
Mutt stands you up with blue magic and nods.  
“So you’re the human that’s been screaming at the top of their lungs for the past couple of days. Good to know it wasn’t just falling hallucinations again.”  
Without thinking, you throw your arms around Mutt, and hold on as tight as you can. He stiffens for a moment, then wraps his arms under yours.  
“I know you like what you’re seeing. I can smell it on you.” Mutt whispers to you.  
“What? I----” You’re confused, and mildly frightened. You thought monsters could only smell magic, but your mage status seems to be giving everyone more information than they should be privy to. Still… he’s not wrong. But this is.  
“Shhh….. Quiet. Come in.” Mutt tries to drag you in while he’s holding you, but you push back.  
“What the hell’s the big idea,? I have stitches all over and my ankle is shattered to hell and back, so stop manhandling me, asshole.”  
“As you wish,” he grins lifelessly, and takes a shortcut to his room. It doesn’t affect you as badly as last time. The real nausea kicks in when you realize you’re in Mutt’s bed, and he’s sitting next to you, lighting a cheap cigar.  
“Do you know how serial killer this looks?!” You protest when your lungs finally take in breath.  
“Door’s right there. Do what you want. Just sayin’ the option’s open.” Mutt exhales the smoke through his nasal ridge. His deep orange eye sockets stare at you with a mix of lust and indifference. You gulp.  
“How do skeletons even fuck?”  
“Same way we eat and have eyes, dipshit. Magic. Want it or not? I know you’ve done this before. People at Grillby’s talk.”  
“It’s not even Grillby’s anymore. How the fuck did that news reach you?” You settle in next to him. “Got anything to drink?”  
Mutt shakes his head. “M’lord threw all our booze out my window. Said it was making it worse. What the hell’s gonna make me feel worse?”  
You twiddle your thumbs.  
“I don’t have much time, asshat. I can feel it _in my bones_. Give me a nice way out.”  
This is a lot to take in, to say the least. You can’t tell if Mutt is really falling down, or if he’s just looking for a quick lay. You don’t know him well enough. He’s probably playing you up for laughs. Seems like a pretty skeletony thing to do.  
But you’d want the same thing, somewhat, if you were dying.  
“How do you like it?” You ask and reach for the box of cigars on his disgusting, gum-covered bedside table.  
“Easy. Rough. With someone who doesn’t bitch much. Sounds like you, from all the screaming you do around here.” You put the cigar in your mouth, and Mutt leans in to light it with his.  
Then he pulls it out of your mouth, takes his, and stomps them both out on the floor.  
“But I want it now, more than anything, so spread ‘em if you wanna help me, moron.” He looks ready to snap. His eyelights are boring right through you, almost like Edge when you first met him. **”Say something. Yes. No. Rot in Hell. But hurry it the fuck up.”**  
The urgency in his voice wakes the part of you that you work hard to press down, the part of you that didn’t mind falling off the overpass, or blowing up a bar, or being murdered behind it. Shit, it’s been so long since anyone’s touched you the way you need it. Your new friends keep flirting with you, but you know they don’t mean it. This might be your only chance to get what you need.  
You cup Mutt’s jaw in your hand and lean in slowly, but he grabs your face and pulls you in. His skull is somehow malleable; he’s a fantastic kisser to boot. His tongue runs across your teeth, before pushing in. You relent. Fuck, you relent. He runs his tongue all over the inside of your mouth, and you suck on it tentatively, earning a muffled groan in response. You pull away and sink your teeth into his vertebrae. He pants.  
“Fuck. I... lick lower,” he begs. He pulls your shirt off. You still have the same stupid bra on.  
“Y---”  
“Shut the fuck up, Mutt, or I’ll stop.” You bite harder, hoping he can take it. You’ve always had to hold back with others.  
“Hah…. not enough…” He drags his phalanges down your spine, and it burns just right.  
“Same to you, asshole,” you grunt. You drag your good leg on top of him and grind slowly on his pelvis. It’s different, but nice. There’s warmth building there, and you reach down, but Mutt slaps your hand away.  
“Not ready yet..”  
“Not ready? What are you, a microwave?” You scoff.  
Mutt stops what he’s doing. Did you ruin it?  
Then he laughs. He’s wheezing, and his eyelights are a little brighter than before. You ask if he’s all right, but he can’t answer.  
He’s got a beautiful laugh: it’s a raspy baritone, and you want to hear it more.  
“Holy fuck, bitch, it’s been months since I’ve laughed like this.” Mutt’s laughing so hard that his SOUL’s manifesting in his ribcage. Even with your limited view, you can see the gashes in it run even deeper than yours.  
He realizes what’s happening and panic runs across his face. He’s thrown you against the wall with blue magic in seconds.  
“Don’t you fucking dare---- don’t say shit. I can’t hear it anymore. Don’t even look at it.”  
Mutt zips up his jacket and buries his face in his hands.  
You try to speak, but his hold is even stronger than most blue magic you’re used to.  
“M---Mutt---”  
“Shut. **Up**.” There’s something escaping from his ribs. Is that… dust? Shit. Shit. **Shit.**  
“Mutt, don’t!” Something in you repels his attack and you thrust your SOUL at him with all of your strength. Your hands are on fire again, but you’re too focused on your task to stop them. You’re fighting to stand against what feels like hurricane force winds, trying to stop the disaster in front of you.  
“LOOK AT IT!” You scream hoarsely.  
“Look at what, asshole? Your pitiful face while I’m dying?!” Mutt chokes. “Can’t even get the one thing I fucking wanted before dying, and to top it all off, you’re trying to stop me, like ‘don’t do it’?”  
“Look at my goddamn SOUL, Mutt.”  
Mutt looks up, face ferocious as a cornered animal. Then he sees your SOUL.  
He laughs again.  
“Can I…”  
“Why the fuck not? Everyone seems to want a piece of it,” you grin. The blue magic releases you and you collapse to the ground.  
“It’s a piece of shit,” he scoffs. “Why are you alive?”  
“Why are you alive, Mutt?” You chuckle, wincing from your newly lit hands. You try to dispel the fire, but it won’t go.  
“Shit… I… come on…” You push harder. _Dispel. Go. Vamoose._  
Then the fire turns green.  
Mutt scrambles away from you. “Wh--- That shit isn’t real. You can’t possibly be doing that.”  
“Be doing what, Mutt? If you’d care to enlighten me?” Your voice quivers. Your hands don’t hurt, but this is still terrifying. What magic even is this? Blow-up-stuff-even-harder magic?  
“That’s healing, idiot. You’re healing.”  
You don’t realize what you’re doing until your hands are in Mutt’s ribcage, and you can feel the warmth of his SOUL in your hands. He’s death-gripping yours.  
“WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?!” 

You’re both in the most uncomfortable chairs at Edge’s house, trying not to look at each other. Yet still with each others’ SOULs in your hands.  
Edge looks thoroughly embarrassed to know you.  
“SO THAT’S HOW YOU FOUND THEM?”  
“FOR THE LAST TIME, YES! MESSING WITH EACH OTHER’S SOULS! IT WAS DISGRACEFUL…. AND DANGEROUS!” Black sputters.  
“Well, I guess you could say it was a SOUL-ful encounter,” Red grins nervously. If Edge’s looks could kill, Red would be a pile of ashes.  
Sans and Stretch have been called in to be impartial judges of your little situation with Mutt. Red has opted out, but apparently he’s usually one of the moderators when there are conflicts or fights in the building.  
They’re still deliberating in Edge’s room. And Black is getting restless. He’s dragging his claws down his mug of coffee.  
“SO NOT ONLY DID YOU FEEL THE NEED TO DISGRACE ME FOR NORMAL BEHAVIOR IN FRONT OF EVERYONE, BUT TO ADD INSULT TO INJURY, YOU RAN OFF TO START GETTING HANDSY WITH MY DOG. AND YOU’RE STILL GROPING HIM.”  
His words are bitter and full of intent to harm. But you know you deserve it, so you hold it together and say nothing. Instead, you focus on reproducing what happened in Mutt’s room.  
“She didn’t---”  
“SHUT IT, MUTT.”  
You shake your head at Mutt. _I’ve earned myself this one, dude. Sorry for all of this._ You have no idea if he can hear you, but he does have your SOUL in his hands.  
Mutt looks away, lost in thought.  
“She saved my life, Black. She can heal.”  
Black spews his coffee across the table. “Impossible. No one can do that.”  
“I can prove it to you, bro, if you’d listen.”  
“RIDICULOUS. IF THAT BITCH COULD HEAL, SHE WOULDN’T STILL BE LIMPING AROUND LIKE A FUCKING INVALID AND WASTING EVERYONE’S TIME,” Black quips.  
“I just found out I could heal today, Black. I just found out I could use magic yesterday. I don’t know what more you want from me, besides an apology.”  
Black throws the table, and Blue just barely catches it.  
“Black,” Blue warns him, but it’s too late.  
“Bro, don’t.” Mutt adds.  
The commotion draws Red back into the room. “H--hey, hey, Blackeye, take it easy!”  
**”NO.”**  
You hand Mutt his SOUL as carefully as you can and stand up.  
“If you want to test me, feel free.”  
**BLACK (SANS)**  
*ATK: 95 DEF: 67 HP: 72/72  
*Former Fell Nation Guard captain, Swap Region.  
*He’s striking to kill.  
*Please be careful.  
Out of the corner of your eye, you see some dust crumble off of Mutt’s SOUL.  
Trust me, you beg him, and hope that he can hear you.  
Sans and Stretch step out of Edge’s room.  
“Black, we’re still deliberating. What do you think you’re doing?”  
“FUCK YOUR DELIBERATING. I CAN MAKE MY OWN JUDGEMENTS; I’M NOT A CHILD!” Black spits.  
“No one said that, Black. You’re being unobjective is all,” Sans replies, tiredness in his voice.  
“If Black wants to try me this way, I’m fine with it,” you interrupt.  
“Y/N, don’t be ridiculous!” Blue protests. “It’s not going to be a fair fight for you!”  
“LIFE ISN’T FAIR FOR ALL MONSTERS, BABY BLUE. STEP OFF BEFORE I---”  
“Before you what, Black?” Stretch’s voice is strained. Sans tugs at his arm.  
“Look. I shouldn’t even be here. I’ve been butting heads and causing trouble for everyone since I got here, so it’s really no loss if he kills me,” you grin humorlessly.  
“Human, that’s not true! Don’t talk about yourself like that!” Blue scolds you.  
“If you’re all so worried about me, then deliberate the fight. But this isn’t gonna be settled until we do this. I know how this goes.”  
“Y/N…” Red seems about to say something, but thinks better of it.  
“Sans?” Edge asks, turning toward the blue-hooded skeleton. “This might as well be what I was telling you about last night.”  
Sans nods.  
“Well, where are we gonna do this?”  
“BALCONY,” you and Black say at the same time.


	6. Chapter 6: Black the Impaler

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Read pushes her luck, and everyone is starting to get concerned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this chapter: moderate gore, blood, mild disassociation references  
> This chapter is SFW. And this fic is turning out to be a slow, slow burn. Edited as usual by the lovely @rbssns! Please go check out her tumblr at rbssns.tumblr.com (since my HTML links don't seem to be working). My tumblr (NSFW so no kids) is dignis-sin-bar.tumblr.com. I may open up a Q&A by Chapter 10, so I'll try to keep you posted!

Chapter 6: Black the Impaler  
It’s snowing outside, and the sun is bright in your eyes. You’re sniffling a bit from the cold, but otherwise, you feel ready to go. Other than the fact that Mutt’s nervous, tired expression is breaking your heart. And your ankle is about to fall off.  
Sans and Stretch are sitting in lounge chairs, watching attentively with flat expressions on their face. Blue keeps shooting disapproving looks at his brother, but Stretch stares straight ahead, not meeting them once. He’s got a lit cigarette in his mouth, possibly to stave off the guilt.   
“You all ready?” Sans asks.   
“I can’t believe you’re allowing this,” Blue growls. You’ve never heard him this pissed.  
“We’ve talked about this, bro. This is just how some monsters and humans settle things, and we’ve got no right---”  
**”I have every fucking right to voice my opinion, brother.”** Did you hear that right?  
“That you do.” Stretch’s teeth grind on his cigarette.   
Edge and Red are leaning on the wall to the building. Edge seems about as impassive as Sans, but if you focus on his face, some interest is peeking through. Red won’t stop picking at his gold tooth. What the hell is the difference between Fell and Tale Nation monsters? You’ve never really asked, and you do your best to ignore the hateful rumours about either.  
But the difference in these skeletons’ reactions to your current endeavor are impossible to ignore. Whatever the distinction is, it has to be massive.  
“Let’s do this.” You nod.   
Black attacks before you even finish your sentence, sending rows upon rows of sharpened bones after you like a path. You run as fast as you can with your bad leg, but eventually you fuck up and trip, a bone pushing through your cast to the other end. You hold your breath to avoid screaming. Black watches, a sadistic smile on his face.  
“Stretch! You need to stop this!” Blue screams, but you don’t have time to look at him. Things are different this time. You refuse to call for help.  
You pull and tug until your leg is free. Clearly running wasn’t a good idea. You summon the fire at your heels and spin it as fast as you can. Black roars with frustrations as his attacks are incinerated.   
“YOU THINK YOU’RE SO FUCKING UNTOUCHABLE, HUMAN?! TRY THIS!” Black taunts, and grasps for your SOUL with his hands. You can feel yourself turning blue, but you have no idea how to dodge an attack like this, only to resist. You drag your good heel into the floor as hard as you can. Black starts to sweat.   
“You’re not strong enough to move me that way, Black. You have to try something else.”  
“SHUT THE FUCK UP! YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT!”   
There are so many bones in the air that you relinquish to Black’s gravity magic. For whatever reason, he doesn’t use his control over your body to impale you right away, possibly because that would forfeit the match. Instead, he drags you towards the paths of bones that he’s set up, giving you just enough freedom to hurdle or burn them as fast as you can. Eventually you grab fast to one of the larger attacks and start using it as a crutch of sorts, reading the patterns in Black’s rows. He’s screaming taunts and laughing raucously, but you can barely hear him. Your mind is on what’s directly in front of you. 3 short. 1 medium. 4 tall. 2 short, 3 medium, 2 tall. 6 medium. Too many to jump, so you burn them. Your stamina is running out, but you haven’t used much magic. You dig your feet in again, and flare your fire in front of you, burning through the entire path as you traverse it.   
“I GUESS CHEAP TRICKS AREN’T GOOD ENOUGH TO KILL YOU. GOOD.” Black lunges towards you, a massive sharpened bone dagger in his hands. _He likes to fight close_ , you realize. That previous display was for nothing more than to show off and wear you out.  
“Is this what you wanted?” He’s on top of you, stabbing each place you previously were. Thankfully, you know your way around a knife fight. It’s a cheap weapon, and the first option for people who want to inflict long-lasting pain instead of a clean kill. Especially Black’s, you note as you shove him off you with a fiery hand and scramble to your feet. His knife is serrated.  
Black clutches his chest. You did your best to pull back, knowing that his SOUL is just under his ribcage, but he’s still wincing.  
“I didn’t hit anything sensitive, did I?” You ask. You get your answer in the form of several bone knives thrown in your direction. Maybe his ego, but not his SOUL.  
“FIGHT ME OR FUCK OFF, HUMAN. I DON’T NEED YOUR PITY.” Black seems on the edge of tears.  
“Fine.” You run at him from an angle, determined to only use non-lethal attacks. He has you in a headlock, so you bite down on his elbow, where the armor he’s wearing doesn’t quite reach. He howls with indignity and loosens his grip enough for you to escape.   
“YOU FUCKING CHEAT!” He accuses.  
“I do what I have to in order to survive.” You throw a sucker punch, but Black sees through it and pummels your stomach. You double over. The stitches are leaking again. But something’s not right. Your blood is flowing darker, yet darker than normal. Shit. That wasn’t what you were expecting. Whatever happens, no one watching the fight can see it. You flash the brightest fire you can in Black’s eyesockets, careful not to actually burn him, and singe the blood dry beneath you. He groans and covers his face, before returning to trying to skewer you. But his strategy isn’t working anymore. You refuse to run.  
You know there’s nowhere to escape. And you’ll fight as long as you---  
Your ankle. It’s been bleeding the entire time.   
Everyone’s already seen what you were trying to hide.  
That momentary distraction gives Black enough time to plunge a bone knife straight into your shoulder, dissipating it so that your wound won’t clot around it.   
The look on his face brings you back to your worst nights as a bodyguard.  
Before you know it, you’re sobbing and reaching for Black’s chest.   
You can vaguely hear Stretch, Blue, and Sans shouting something. But your attention is on the person above you.   
Your hands turn a vivid green, and you hold them both to Black’s ribcage for a split second.   
Someone turns Black blue and yanks him far away from you, as Blue and Red rush over.  
“Hey! Sweetheart! Talk to me!”  
“Stop picking at your tooth,” you croak. You’re losing too much blood.   
“Human! Don’t worry! Stretch, what the hell is wrong with you?! Call Papyrus!”  
“Hey, hey, what’s going on with her blood?” Sans frowns over you. “That’s not normal at all. We need to get her inside. To my place. You all need to clear out. Paps, Stretch and I will take care of this.”  
“Oh, so now you want to help?” Blue glares.  
Sans’s eyelights go out.   
Blue backs away. “This isn’t over.”

You come to in what feels like a lab. The air smells like lemon Lysol, and your sheets are cold.  
“HUMAN? ARE YOU CONSCIOUS?” A cheerful, strained voice asks you.  
You turn your head, ignoring the pain in your shoulder.  
The skeleton by your bedside must be Papyrus, since you don’t recognize him at all. He’s wearing a scarf, mittens, and a t-shirt.  
“Aren’t you cold?” You smile.  
“NONSENSE! SKELETONS DON’T HAVE FLESH UNLESS WE WANT TO. AND EVEN THEN, IT’S A TEMPORARY CONSTRUCT.” Papyrus blushes and covers his mouth. “GRACIOUS, SORRY ABOUT THAT. THAT’S A TERRIBLE TOPIC FOR ME TO START WITH.” He extends a gloved hand, and you don’t mean to hang onto it, but you do. Papyrus doesn’t seem to mind.  
“Are you Papyrus?”   
“DOES MY NAME PRECEDE ME?” Papyrus’s eyelights burn whiter than usual. Makes you think of someone else.  
“Somewhat. I was told you’d be putting my sorry ass back together.”  
“AND HOW DOES AN ASS APOLOGIZE, EXACTLY?” Papyrus waggles his eyebrow ridges at you. You don’t know why, but that’s the funniest thing you’ve seen all day. You can’t stop laughing.  
“Careful with that one, Paps. You’ll leave her _in stitches_ ,” Sans adds from the other end of the room. Damn, it really is a lab. There’s a broken, laundry-machine looking thing in the corner, and all sorts of medical equipment around. Sans has glasses taped to his skull, and a lab coat over his regular outfit. Shitty slippers included. Stretch is dressed similarly. Weird.  
“I think you’re good to start healing, Smiley.” Stretch gives Papyrus a thumbs up.  
“I HEAR YOU HAVE THE BEGINNINGS OF A MAGE IN YOU, HUMAN. HEALING MAGIC PROFICIENCY IS RARE, AND A SIGN OF AN EXCEPTIONALLY GOOD HEART! YOU SHOULD BE PROUD!” Papyrus smiles wider than ever. You can’t help but smile with him.   
“I’M GOING TO START HEALING YOUR ANKLE NOW. IF YOU CAN HELP, YOU’RE WELCOME TO, BUT I UNDERSTAND IF YOU’RE TOO TIRED.” Papyrus removes his gloves and places his hands on your black-stained cast.  
“HEALING MAGIC CAN HAVE VERY CALMING EFFECTS, SO IT’S ALRIGHT IF YOU NOD OFF! YOU SEEM LIKE YOU COULD USE THE REST!” Papyrus realizes what he’s said, and he cringes a bit. His hands begin to glow a soft, tealish green.  
“Where’s my SOUL, Papyrus?” You yawn. Damn, that’s quick.  
“Mutt dropped it off while you were losing blood. Seemed pretty reluctant to let go of it. I get that, though,” Stretch answers.  
“Y--YOUR SOUL’S BEEN TOUCHED BEFORE?” Papyrus’s entire skull turns bright orange. “BY MORE THAN ONE MONSTER?”  
“Does that mean anything?”  
“DOES IT--- USUALLY ONLY SOULMATES OR FAMILY ARE SUPPOSED TO DO THAT!”  
“Papyrus.” Sans gives him a look, and he stops pressing the issue.

You’re in a field of beautiful buttercups, swaying and catching the sun on their waxen petals. You stretch your arms, only to find them much shorter than they should be. You’re wearing the wrong clothes too; your shirt is small, and torn to shreds. You’re cold. You’re hungry. You look to the flowers for solace, but find nothing.  
Your feet move on their own, further and further up the hills of buttercups, until you realize you’re hiking a mountain. The wind is pushing through some Japanese maples, and passes through your shirt, sending shivers down your spine. You’ve got one knife in your pocket, but no food.   
*Not that you need any, where you’re going.  
The words aren’t yours, but they don’t particularly bother you. You’ve had similar thoughts before, and whoever this body belongs to doesn’t seem to mind having you around.  
*I need to show you something.  
_Sure,_ you shrug the child’s shoulders. That must be what you are; you’re way too damn short to be an adult. _Where are we going?_  
*We are going where I went to die.  
You snap out of the beauty of the mountain. You drag your feet, and your shared body trips.   
*You can’t stop what’s already happened, Y/N.  
You both tumble through a bunch of underbrush, and every little cut stings. As you stand up, you realize too late that your feet are at the edge of a hole.  
The fall feels just like the overpass.

“HUMAN? HUMAN! ARE YOU ALRIGHT? YOU’RE CRYING! HEALING MAGIC SHOULDN’T DO THAT! WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO STOP?”  
“Wha---- Papyrus?” You try to sit up, but Stretch pushes your sternum down.   
“I’m undoing your stitches. You don’t need ‘em anymore. Unless you go and do something dumb, like you were about to.”  
You wipe your watering eyes, then you look down at your feet. The cast is gone.  
“No way. Healing magic isn’t that cool.”  
“You’re right, kid. Not for humans, usually. But a mage’s body is a bit different. You’re the perfect balance between matter and energy. Not to mention that you were adding your power to Paps’s while you were sleeping.”  
“My SOUL..”  
“We’ve stored it in an airtight container. It’s not stable, and neither is your magic. Sans and I need to run more tests. Also, you were losing a lot of blood, so I hope you don’t mind we borrowed some too.”  
You shrug. “B my guest.”  
Papyrus groans. “Really, human? This is how you repay my kindness? With puns?”  
“O. I didn’t realize you were such a type A, Papyrus.”   
“THIS IS GOING TO BE A PROBLEM, ISN’T IT? WELL, HUMAN, I’LL BE ON MY WAY. BUT HERE, TAKE MY PHONE NUMBER, IN CASE YOU EVER NEED ME AGAIN! OR WANT TO SEE ME. PLATONICALLY. BYE!” Papyrus throws down a crumpled sticky note and bails.  
“So, how rare is healing magic?” You ask. “Also, can I actually walk and stuff now?”  
“Yeah, just a minute,” Stretch mutters, undoing the last of your stitches. “You scar pretty bad, honey. Even monster salve won’t get rid of these.”  
“It’s nothing new,” you laugh. “Here I go.” You push off the bed and flex your toes. It’s like nothing happened.   
“Wow,” you gasp. A rush of childlike wonder hits you, as you twist your foot around and stand on your toes. “This is amazing, guys! Thank you!” You hug Stretch and offer Sans your hand.  
“Big mistake, honey.”  
An obnoxious farting noise rings throughout the lab, echoing on the tile walls.   
“SANS!” Papyrus shouts through what you presume is the rest of Sans’s apartment. “WAS THAT REALLY NECESSARY?”  
“We greet all guests here with pomp and flatulence,” Sans lets go of your hand and gestures to himself proudly. You snort despite yourself.   
“UGH! YOU’RE UNBELIEVABLE!” You hear another door slam in the distance.  
“We should celebrate,” you smile, nervous.  
“That Black almost stabbed you to death over his nation’s ridiculous rules, and you let him? I’ll pass,” Sans grimaced.   
“I know that kind of person. He wouldn’t have accepted anything else.”  
Stretch gave you a suspicious glance, but said nothing.  
“Speaking of, I need to see him.”  
Stretch steps in. “No can do. I’m not going through this experience again with you.”  
“I swear, I’m not going to pick a fight, Stretch.”  
“He doesn’t care about that. Look, there’s some monsters in this building you should just avoid being around when you can. Not everyone here is gonna like you. And a lot of us are still afraid of having a human with magic in our complex, even if you’re leaving soon. So leave that little bastard alone if you wanna make it home tomorrow.”   
“I didn’t ask for your opinion, or Blue’s, if that’s what you’re sticking with. Move.”  
Stretch’s golden eyelights flash with anger.   
“I’m not wrong.”  
“Welp, seeing as you’re all patched up, I’d like to have some time _with Stretch_ to start running tests,” Sans grabs Stretch’s arm. “You can move around just fine without your SOUL as long as you don’t die and stay within a few blocks of here. Got it? We’ll have it back day after tomorrow.”  
“Cool. See you guys later.” You push past Stretch and leave the lab, then exit the adjoining apartment, which seems to be Blue’s. Is the lab between the two apartments? Who is letting them modify this complex so extensively?  
Edge is well away from the Lab door by the time you’ve stormed out. He’s heard all he needs to hear. Now it’s time to call in a favor. He dials in the number and waits.  
“Edge? Wowie, have you ever called me before?” Papyrus seems to have improved his phone voice, and Edge is damn relieved for it. He’d once made the mistake of calling the Tale brothers’ home phone, only for his eardrums to ring ceaselessly for hours.  
“Hello, Papyrus. Are you well?” Edge knows he sounds stiff, but he can’t put all formalities aside. It’s in his nature.  
“Why, yes, to an extent. It was rather disconcerting to come home to a dying human, but the Great Papyrus is very quick on his feet!” Edge can hear the sadness in Papyrus’s voice, but he doesn’t exactly know how to help.  
“Would you like to come to the dentist with me?”   
His cheerful counterpart snickers, knowing the secret code. “Why, of course! Let me find an outfit without human blood stains on it, and I’ll be… where exactly are we meeting?”  
“I’ll be parked in the lot by Muffet’s. The lazy carrot will be occupied in the lab, so there’s little chance of us running into him. Do you think the others will be a problem?”  
“Unlikely,” Papyrus sighs. “I think everyone’s too shaken up to go out right now. The only wild card is probably Black, though he’s likely to stay and guard Mutt, if he still feels the way he feels about our human friend.”  
“If I know anything about him, it’s that he takes a damn long time to calm down. There should, then, be no interruptions. How long will you be?”  
“Not very long at all! I’m sure we have a lot to discuss, and I’m very eager to go to the dentist today!” Papyrus snorts. He’s trying his hardest to not sound suspicious, and Edge smirks a bit.   
He tries to sever the link between his swirling thoughts and the weight of his foot on the pedal. It takes concentration, but he takes a deep breath and backs his car smoothly out of the building’s small basement lot. The human’s motorcycle is parked in a corner, and looking at it makes him feel worse. _Don’t look at it, then. Focus on the task at hand. One thing at a time._  
The traffic at this time is terrible, and Edge reaches for a cold thermos of old, strong coffee. Normally he’d disdain drinking something that’s been sitting in his car for so long. Normally, he wouldn’t have let it sit at all, but with the events of the past 48 hours, he hasn’t had time to devote himself to keeping his life spotless. It eats at him, but he takes a sip of the disgusting brine anyway. His nasal ridge wrinkles, but it helps him focus on the drive.   
It’s a short drive, but with his nerves the way they are, he sees each stupid thing the other drivers do as a personal slight, and he slams his fist on the horn several times. The indentations overlap with many others from similar bad days.  
Finally, he drives into an empty spot in the parking lot. Papyrus is waiting for him, two coffees in hand.   
“Hello, cousin! I bought you the roast you like. And some spare gardening gloves, since I figured you’d forget yours.” Edge grimaces at his mistake, but thanks Papyrus with a nod.   
Once Papyrus is in the other seat, the car feels a little less tense.   
“Black almost killed the human,” Edge breaches the topic with as much grace as he can muster. “It would have been a disaster for human-monster relations, especially Fell Nation monsters. I cannot believe I did not have the foresight to stop it.”  
“IT’S ALRIGHT, EDGE! AS GREAT AND TERRIBLE AS YOU ARE, IT IS EASY SOMETIMES TO SLIP BACK INTO YOUR OLD HABITS!” Papyrus pauses. “Like how I’m using my outside voice in the car again, nyeheheh. I apologize.”  
“Don’t worry about it. I feel close to screaming myself. I almost unwittingly undid all of your work by assenting to those two morons.”  
“Sans doesn’t mean anything by it, I don’t think. From what he and Stretch told me, they only allowed the fight to occur because they overestimated Y/N’s capabilities. They’d never exactly observed her fighting; they only had her magic output to go by. She seems to expend a lot of unnecessary energy in her attacks, so they thought she’d be able to handle herself despite her injury.” Papyrus smiles weakly. “I won’t deny that it was a close one for all of us. All we can really do is thank the stars that things, so far, have turned out in Y/N’s favor.”  
“THAT’S THE DAMN PROBLEM WITH HER! She never seems to think anything through. She coasts by on luck alone! She’s stupidly reckless---”  
“You’re worried about her once she goes home?”  
Edge pauses. Part of him, the part of him he’s trying to improve, demands that he keep his mouth shut. That demonstrating concern leaves him and the human open to attack.  
But, as much as Papyrus plays things off, it’s impossible to lie to him. They know each other’s tells too well.  
“It’s been keeping you up, hasn’t it? I saw you logged onto Underbook far into the hours of the morning.” Edge gulps and nods.   
“You know I’m a monster of action, Papyrus. The sooner I can find a plan of action, the sooner I can dispel the… the multitude of thoughts that plague my concentration. At this point, though, I need a second opinion.”  
Papyrus shakes his leg, thinking hard.   
“Ah! There’s always the Magically Abled Human Exchange Act! You could take custody of the human under the pretense of training her to utilize her abilities safely!”  
“But she tries her hardest to reject help at every turn! I asked Blue for more information on the overpass incident, and he reported the same behavior that’s been driving me to my wit’s end!”  
“The overpass incident?” Papyrus asks. “Is that how you found the human in the first place?”  
“Not quite. She was on her way to Sparkby’s new bar when she got into a race with Blue. They were on a tight curve, and she ended up thrown off her bike off an overpass. If Blue hadn’t acted quickly, she would have died that night.”  
Papyrus pulls a legal pad out of his satchel and starts scribbling notes furiously. They’re making excellent time, so he seems to be working as quickly as possible. He pulls some pince-nez glasses out of a side pocket in the purse and sets them on his nasal ridge.   
“Is the overpass incident the source of the human’s previous injuries?”  
“Not exactly. Apparently the little shit didn’t even know she was a mage, so when she was attacked by Catty’s gang outside Sparkby’s, she basically blew the place apart in terror.”  
“EXCELLENT!” Papyrus proclaims, then pauses. “Well, not that the bar is destroyed, but that information, with witnesses that can vouch for the event, is fantastic!”  
The Mustang stops at a light. Papyrus is writing so quickly that Edge is amazed by how nice his penmanship remains. He’s got his legalese face on; there’s no stopping him now.   
“I can tell you’ve got something up your sleeve,” Edge smiles slyly. He knew he made the right call. Sometimes he confided in Papyrus more than in his own brother, but his counterpart never fails to come through.  
“Nyeheheh! With this new information, I can lay a masterful trap for our new friend that no amount of hardheadedness can escape!” Papyrus announces proudly, and somehow the heater in the Mustang catches his scarf just so. He looks just as heroic as when they first met. Though this pose used to aggravate Edge to no end, he’s quick to jump on board now. And the talk of traps and puzzles always sends excitement through his nerves.  
“Well? Out with it!”  
“There are emergency provisions in the act pertaining to persons whose magic makes them a danger to themselves or others. There should be plenty of witnesses willing to testify against her to the Royal Commission of Magic Safety. I can pull a few strings and have her immediately assigned to us, so that we can monitor her progress and tutor her in magic use! It’s genius!”  
“PAPYRUS, THAT’S INCREDIBLE!” Edge exclaims, then clears his throat in apology. “You always know what to do, damn it. But I have other concerns about Y/N. Mental concerns. She… she reminds me of Red, after we moved out of the Capital. When I grew up and joined the Royal Guard, Red quit his job at the laboratory in Hotland. I can’t exactly remember why, but he was profoundly adamant about not returning. He still refuses to work in the lab with Sans and Stretch.”  
“Sans actually threw himself into his studies harder, but he said he preferred to leave the Lab in Alphys’s hands. Eventually Frisk helped me discover Sans had his own lab behind a false wall in the shed. He was rather angry that we found it, but it ultimately helped us to be more honest with each other. Honestly, it was one of the first steps he took to treating me as an adult!”   
With Red, it feels like the opposite occurred. As soon as I started getting into my new Guard position and he quit his Lab work, he fell into a slump. He kept getting drunk, picking fights… I think the lowest point was when I had to arrest him myself, to prevent him from being killed by an angry mob.” Edge’s ribs constrict at the painful memory. Red’s injuries were already substantial by the time he’d arrived. Incapable of healing, Edge had been forced to use blue magic with all of his might, trying to force Red’s dusting bones to stay bound to his SOUL. It had worked, but Red was left with lacerations all over his bones from what Edge had been unable to bind. There was no saving his tooth, either.  
Papyrus touched Edge’s knee. “Edge… we’re here. You parked 15 minutes ago.”  
Edge looks around, absorbing the countryside. Winter has killed most of the tall grass, and the dead blades rattle softly in the wind.   
“Would you like me to hold your hand?” Papyrus asks gently. “It’s alright if you’re still getting your bearings. I do it for Sans when he has bad dreams.”   
Edge grumbles, embarrassed. “Would you mind? Just for a couple of minutes.”  
Papyrus’s gloved hand takes his own, and Edge takes a deep breath.   
“In through your nasal bridge and out through your mouth for ten counts, just like we practiced. I should have stepped in to help before, but I was too swept up by our plans,” Papyrus smiles apologetically.  
“Don’t worry, Papyrus. It’s like you always tell me; you can’t do everything at once. But you can accomplish a lot in order.”  
“See? I knew you were progressing! Are you ready for this? I think we’re harvesting the last of the winter crops today.”  
Edge nods and gently pulls his hand away. They walk out, Edge taking the lead. Despite their long history, he still couldn’t help but walk in front. It wasn’t like Papyrus couldn’t hold his own in a FIGHT, but leading the walk gave him a small sense of control.   
They follow a short dirt road leading to a small cottage surrounded by dead corn stalks and more tall grass. Papyrus knocks on the door, being careful not to be too loud.  
A single red eye glares through the peephole on the door.  
“Now, now, brother! We’ve talked about how disturbing that looks from the other side! Let me get it!”  
The door unlocks, and an absurdly tall skeleton pokes his head out of the too-short doorframe. His messy teeth, held by braces, twist into a welcoming smile, while the single red eyelight glows in the background.   
“Welcome back, friends! Are you ready to dig up potatoes?”  
“Back for another tough time?” A chuckle echoes from the door.


	7. Chapter 7: A Match Made in Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, I'm sure you can figure it out from the title.   
> *kicks weakness for fire elementals under a table* OH DON'T LOOK AT THAT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: mild noncon mention, but I want everyone to stay safe, nothing bad happens to anyone I promise  
> This chapter is SFW otherwise.

You’re laying face up on the couch at Edge’s house, without a damn clue as to what to do next. You’ve got no day job, your interview with Toriel is tomorrow, and you’ve got an entire afternoon and evening to blow, but you can’t travel too far from the building.

The care package should arrive at Mutt and Black’s door soon, and you consider watching the chaos, but forgo it. That’s too creepy.

You’ve got no job at the diner, a likely shriveling number of human clients after the fiasco with the Carters (they probably showed up and never got their toys). You open up your email, and sure thing: all ten of your client families are retiring their children from your care.  _ The good news in my life never lasts, does it?  _ You chuckle sadly at the thought and wiggle your newly freed toes.

Hold on a minute, the Carters.

You languidly move out to the balcony and look around you. Yep, this is their neighborhood, unless they’ve recently moved. You call in another favor from Muffet, and wait. Helen’s a complete cunt, but Peyton and Carter deserve their things back. You pass out on the couch.

 

“Yep, something definitely isn’t right.” Sans pulls away from his magnifying glass. “You’re gonna wanna see this, Stretch.”

Stretch saunters up. The SOUL pulses when he approaches.

“Hm. Must be respondin’ to you being a dick to the human.”

“I wasn’t being a dick; I was telling her to stay in her lane! Did you see how easily Black could’ve killed her?” Stretch protests.

“But he didn’t. That’s enough for me. All she did was bleed some. Easy to fix.”

Stretch opens his mouth, but thinks better of it. They’re just here to look at Y/N’s SOUL. Anything else can wait. It’s been a rough day.

“So… I’m reading some BRAVERY and KINDNESS from Paps, and a little bit of JUSTICE/BRAVERY from you.”

“What about that?” Stretch points to several black flecks on the heart. It’s the same shit that was in her blood.”

“I’m trying to remember, but… it’s..” Sans grips his skull, eyelights out.

“It hurts to try.”

Stretch rushes to his friend. “Hey, take it easy! Let’s go for a walk or somethin’. Get some coffee. We’ve probably been cooped up in here too long.”

“You don’t feel it, do you? Every time I look at those spots, it’s like deja vu.” Sans’s voice drops to a whisper. “Like remembering a RESET, but worse.” 

Stretch picks up the magnifying glass and looks harder.

Is this familiar to him?

“Nope, sorry Sans. Try asking Blue. He might know. Red’s not coming into the lab, and I doubt the other two want to talk about anything right now. We could wait a while and contact Alphys.”

Sans shakes his head. “No. Whatever this feeling is, I don’t like it. I want this human out of here as soon as possible. The stuff doesn’t seem to be damaging her, and even if it was…” Sans takes in a breath. “This SOUL is beyond repair.”

“But--”

“You want Blue to get invested just to watch her die?”

Stretch gulps.

“Cigarette?” Sans pops open a pack. 

“Yeah,” Stretch nods, and they leave the lab for the balcony.

 

Muffet’s text wakes you up. The care package has been delivered, and the crate of toys is at your doorstep. You don’t want to send spiders to a monsterphobic house, so you sack up to deliver the toys yourself.

“How’s it goin’, sleeping beauty?” Red claps a hand on your shoulder, just like when you met.

“You packing heat again, Red?” You detect the use of magic, but it’s very faint. Red yanks his hand away. You turn to face him, and his face is tomato-red.

“What? No! ‘Course not! I mean--- yeah. Just, uh, checking your reflexes.I was just starin’ at the ceiling for a while and I heard your phone ring.”

“Eh, just got an errand to run. I’ll be back in about a half hour or so.”

“What sorta errand?”

“Uh, nothing. Delivery.”

“Hm. Well, I haven’t been out of the house all day, and Boss’ll be on my case if I don’t get some fresh air. Can I come with?”

“Sorry, Red. I gotta do this on my own. It’s not far away, I promise. You can probably see the place from out the window.” The last thing you need is to show up on the Carters’ doorstep with another monster. Caden used to brag about his father’s rifle collection, and you’re sure it hasn’t gone anywhere.

With 10 HP, you’re not risking his life for something this stupid.

“Well, I’m off. Mind leaving the twelve or so locks off so I can come back?”

“Agh, you’re no fun, Sunshit.”

Edge is digging up the last of the potatoes when he notices his massive counterpart looking up to the sky. Papyrus sees it too.

“Is something bothering you, Sugar?”

“Sans, do you smell that? It smells like rain! But it won’t be here for a while.” 

“You’re not speaking clearly, bro. Wanna run that by me again?” A widely-built Sans grins and narrows his eyelight at his brother. 

“Axe, stop teasing Sugar! Getting a lisp is part of having braces!” Papyrus scolds.

“Heheh, you know I don’t mean anything by it, Creampuff.”

“Did you find a job in the city like I asked you to, brother?” Sugar tilts his head back to look at Axe, but Axe shrugs. 

“Sorry, bro, but when I got on the bus I forgot what stop I was getting off at. What an airhead, am I right?” He knocks below a massive hole in his skull and wiggles his browbones at Edge.

“What about the note that I sent you? It told you everywhere you needed to go!” Sugar presses. 

“Oh. Yeah. I threw it out with my pocket lint by accident. Maybe.” Axe grunts and tries to recall, but he’s not sure. “Maybe someone picked my pockets.” He grips his signature weapon tighter. “Either way, it’s no loss. Doubt anyone would wanna hire an axewoods hillbilly like me.”

“Perhaps we could accompany you next time, Axe.”

Axe shakes his head, mouth twitching. “I don’t want to be coddled. I-if these are the limitations I’m working with, I’ll just work with ‘em. It’s already bad enough that we can’t pick our own damn crops.” With a growl, he leaves, mumbling to himself all the while. 

“Brother, please don’t let the blade drag across the hardwood! I just polished it yesterday!” Sugar calls after him.

“We live in a SHED, Paps! There’s no point to polishing scrapwood!” Axe responds.

“Brother, don’t use such crude language in front of our company!”

“I said SHED, Paps! Not SHIT! SHED!”

Edge sighs. 

“Will you need help carrying it inside, Sugar?”

Sugar shakes his head adamantly. “Please don’t. As much as I’d like to have you stay for dinner, I think Brother has had as much socialization as he can take for the day. I… I can’t guarantee your safety if you intrude upon his safe space.”

“We can cover for ourselves just fine if---” Papyrus tugs on Edge’s scarf a bit.

“I think what Sugar means is that he wants us to get a head start before it rains.”

“Ah! Right! That too! These roads can be treacherous when wet, friends! Well, take care!” Sugar hugs both of them tightly, and ducks under the back door as he closes it.

 Edge hears the bolt slam into place.

“Come on, Edge,” Papyrus gently guides Edge back to the car.

 

You hop on your bike, just in case you need to make a quick escape. It’s a block or less away, but old habits die hard. 

The sun is starting to set when you park Electra. You press the buzzer, keeping your face turned from the Carters’ security camera.

“Who is this?” Helen asks.

“Y/N. I’m here with Peyton and Caden’s toys.”

“Mom, who is it?” Peyton asks. You hear her jumping for the receiver. 

“It’s nobody, Peyton. Go play with Casey. I have to go soon.”

“Hey, Caden, it’s Y/N! Come on, look out the window!”

The blinds on the front window open, and you wave hello.

“Listen, if you know what’s good for you, you can take your toys back and exit the premises.”

“Mrs. Carter---”

“I saw you coming out of that--- district. That building. People say it’s owned by skeletons. I don’t want that near my children. I saw you being transported into that place. I no longer want you associated with me, my brand, or my family, and I am not afraid to call my husband,” she hisses into the receiver.

The front door bursts open, and Peyton tackles you into the ground. Caden pries his sister off of you and waves. 

“What’s up, Y/N?”

“Y/N! Are you coming back?” She looks up to you, her beautiful green eyes full of hope. Caden, on the other hand, has likely been informed. He’s wincing for what you have to say next.

It’s hard to breathe.

“No. I’m not, Peyton. I’m just here with your toys.”

“Oh… well, thanks for everything!” Peyton’s eyes are watering. She reaches for the box.

“PEYTON HELENA CARTER, YOU STEP AWAY FROM THAT WOMAN THIS INSTANT!”

Helen grabs Peyton and drags her back inside.

“Caden!” She glares over her shoulder at her son. Caden’s stoicism breaks.

“This isn’t fair! She didn’t do anything! You’re being ridiculous!” Caden shouts.

“And  _ you  _ are making a scene in front of our neighbors! Is this what you want, Caden? For people to talk about us? Over a stupid babysitter? Look, Casey’s a wonderful young woman, with some better connections, and she’ll do just fine. Come along.”

“No!” Caden sobs, and Peyton starts to cry. “Y/N’s not just a babysitter! She taught me how to dodge when Silas beats me up during recess! She actually protected me! You just told me to ignore it because Silas’s parents are your boss---” 

“Caden, that’s enough. Look at me,” you say.

“---- it’s not… fair…. Why are you letting her do this? Y--you never let people tell you what to do…” Caden blubbers. 

“Hey. Chin up, champion. Do you think it’s fair to Casey that you’re running away from her?” You don’t know who the hell Casey is, but it’s the best you can do to not break down yourself.

“N--no… but---”

“No buts, Caden,” you tell him sternly. He snuffles. There’s snot running down his nose. You dig around in your jacket, and sure enough, some singed tissues are there. You gulp. 

“You’ve got the basics. A good heart, a smart mind, and a good swing. That’s all you need.”

“CADEN! GET INSIDE! If you don’t leave, I’m calling the police.”

“See ya, kid.”

You jump on Electra and head back to Red’s place. Then your phone starts ringing. You pull into an alley (free of cats, this time), and pick up. Not a number you know, though it’s the same area code as yours.

“Is this Ugly Betty’s number?”

Your muscles freeze. You’d gone about a year without calls like these, and even destroyed your old phone and number.

“Sorry, I don’t know who that is. Is this a prank call?”

“I’m a block away, human. Don’t waste my time. Your third-hand bike isn’t fast enough to outrun my Lexus, so just take it real easy.”

You tear open the back compartment of your bike, but it’s gone. A car pulls up in front of the alley.

Sparkby saunters out of his car and locks it shut. He’s as nicely dressed as you last saw him.

“Looking for this dusty thing?” He twirls your banged-up butterfly knife in his hand. “When’s the last time you polished this? It’s a nice build and all, but you haven’t kept it very sharp.” He throws it into the wall next to you. You yank it out of the brick and put it in your pocket.

“Oh, come on, now. I’m just trying to talk business.”

“Everyone fucking says that,” you spit.

“Ah, so you have been in the game before. No wonder all I could find on you was a shitty old alias.”

“Yeah, well it happens when you can’t be bothered to learn a girl’s real name.” Before you know it, your hands start to heat up. You shake the fires out, and Sparkby smirks, looking you up and down. He takes a step closer.

“What’s the matter? Can’t get those under control?”

“Oh, I can control them just fine, hothead. And if you wanna keep your car, you’ll back up.”

Sparkby snarls and pins you to the wall.

“Let’s get one thing  _ straight _ , human. I lost a  _ lot  _ of money on that venture. Your magic won’t do shit to me, but I could turn you to ash pretty easily before you even so much at glance at my car.”

His smoke smells kinda nice…  _ like sandalwood, really. _ Wait, why the fuck are you thinking about that right now?

“Hm… you’re pretty strong, human. I was gonna do you another deal, but now you’ve got me thinking,” he purrs.

You duck out of his grasp and roundhouse kick him to the face. 

“Hey, what the fuck’s wrong with you, molerat?”

“You pinned me to the goddamn wall, what do you mean, what the fuck---what’s wrong with  _ you _ ?!”

“Jeez, I was just trying to protect the money I’ve got left--- did you think----” The realization crosses his face. “Stars, what the hell, human? What the fuck would I gain from that sort of thing?”

You scoff. “Oh, so it’s just a matter of profit. Not morals. Real promising there, Sparkby.”

“Shit, I just want you to wait tables, human. Do some minor security for me. Help me rebuild the third you blew to pieces. Odd jobs so you can pay back your debt. W-why would I give you back your knife if I wanted anything else?” He’s so flustered that embers are rolling off his arms. Is that how fire elementals sweat?

“To prove you could overpower me even when I have a weapon.”

Sparkby brushes the excess live coals off his forearms. “Fuck, you’re right. Look, I can’t approach you too close with the Captain of the Royal Guard within walking distance. So I waited for him to leave, frisked your bike for weapons, and waited for a while. I really did wanna talk business.”

“Why the fuck did you have to use my old name, then? What did you think I was gonna do? There’s a reason people leave that shit behind.”

Sparkby chuckles. “Yeah, well, I wouldn’t get it. Not that I’m too deep into crime myself.”

“Yeah? Where’d you get that car?”

“Why should I tell you?” He grumbles.

“You’ll give me answers or I won’t do shit for you. If I can kick you safely, I’ll only take five minutes to wipe this dirty floor with your fancy, pretentious fire hair and your ridiculously nice suit.”  _ Great. Ruined the threat.  _

“Ugh. Fine. Tax evasion in the Underground. Turned that gold into cash before its value collapsed.”

“The bar.”

“Grillby’s onto bigger and better things. I’m the last one he wanted to sell the bar to, but I was the only one buyin’.”

You almost choke. “So your place is a hand-me-down, your car’s from petty white-collar crime… what about the cat gang?”

“They’re not supposed to be there. They’ve been trying to intimidate me out of the place. I didn’t even notice, but apparently they were planning to attack and were watching from one of my broken windows.”

You’re trying to hold your laughter in, but you can’t. You collapse to the ground, howling.

“You’re a fucking lightweight! A wannabe! My butter knife’s gotten more action than you have!”

“Hey, that’s not true! Fell Nation’s a rough place. I’ve made some questionable deals, let some stuff happen in the back of the store, dusted a couple of monsters…”

“Well at least you know how to kill, if you’re gonna keep messing with this sort of thing.”

You stand in silence for a minute. Well, it’s not like you have a job. And you hate,  _ hate  _ having debts.

“Couldn’t you offer the job to someone else? Why come after me, if you’re not gonna straight up extort me out of the money?”

“Because I know you don’t have it. If you did, you wouldn’t be wearing the same ashy jacket and riding  _ that _ .”

“Keep shitting on my ride and I’ll pass.”

Sparkby snorts. “Come on, human. Lemme get it painted. I can’t have you pulling up to the place in that.”

“Her name is Electra, and maybe try asking for my name, too.”

“Ugh---” he groans.

“Why don’t other monsters want the job?”

“Most Fell monsters are pretty hard knocks, but with Edge and Undyne cracking down on us, we’re being either pressured or convinced to look for a fresh start on the surface. We’ve only lived here for a couple of years, after being run out of a lot of other cities. This cat gang… no one wants to deal with ‘em, and Edge and Undyne are overrun as it is. Nah, I need someone--”

“Someone with no future?” You quip.

“...”

You sigh. You didn’t want to mess with this shit again, but babysitting isn’t gonna keep you alive. Still, it’s always good to take a couple of precautions. You scan Sparkby’s face; he’s trying to stay suave, but there’s still embers rolling off of his hands. He’s not meeting your eyes.

He’s in desperate straits.

You see the corner of a FOR SALE sign on his Lexus.

You look at that damn, damn nice tailored suit. 

_ Shit. _

“You’ll meet me at your bar the day after tomorrow to discuss contracting. You’ll pay me by check, with taxes deducted. No funny under-the-table business, or I’m out. I’m calling in the Royal Guard if I need to. You’ve got a week to find other security because I’m not watching your ass on my own. When I want a drink, I’ll pay you, but you serve me what I fucking asked for. And the name’s Y/N. Do we have a deal?”

“...Fine. We’ve got a deal.” You offer your hand, and Sparkby shakes it. 

It feels, oddly nice, touching a fire elemental. Your own fire starts to react, and you quickly pull your hand away.

“See you in a couple of days.” You jump back on your bike and bail, your palms heating up the steer.

Red’s waiting for you in the parking lot.  _ Shit. I did tell him he could see me from the window. _

“So… what the fuck do ya think you’re doing, princess?”

“Dropping something off. Like I said.”

Red steps closer.

“You close that distance between us, and I kick you in the face, Red.”

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re doin’, hanging around someone like him. He’s gonna get you killed!” Red growls.

“You don’t fucking know me, Red. This isn’t my first rodeo, and I don’t have any goddamn money. I got fired from my job at the diner, remember? And after what happened with the monsterphobic mom, all my human clients turned tail.”

“I could easily sustain you. I got more money than I know what to do with!” Red pleads, forehead pouring sweat. 

“Do I look the type to live off of others like that, Red? Come on. What the hell would I do with my days? Blow your money? Go camping? Sparkby’s in a tight place, and it’s my damn fault.”

“You don’t know these cats, or Sparkby, or Fell Nation like I do.”

“And you don’t know me, Red. Let it go, will you? In a day or two I’ll be out of your hair forever.”

A swanky sports car pulls up, and Edge and Papyrus step out.

“IS SOMETHING THE MATTER?” Papyrus twiddles his phalanges.

“Y/N took a job from Sparkby!”

“Wh--- you fucking snitch, Red!”

“YOU TOOK A JOB FROM THAT PIECE OF SHIT MATCHSTICK?! BUT… WHY?”

“I dunno, Edge, maybe because I got fired from all the jobs that were paying my rent!”

“WELL, THAT’S WHAT EDGE AND I WERE TALKING ABOUT!” Edge stops Papyrus. 

“This isn’t the place to be having this conversation. I think this is something we should ALL be present for.”

“Wha--- why are all of you sticking your necks out for me? What the hell did I ever do for any of you?”

“I’M NOT STICKING MY NECK OUT FOR YOU, HUMAN! YOU’RE STICKING YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR FOR ME,” Edge grins, sadistic glee glinting in his eyelights.

“Wh-- are we really doing this this way?” Papyrus whispers.

“I haven’t done shit!” You scream, but put your hands in the air.

“Boss, what the hell?! She hasn’t committed any crimes yet! She blew that bar up to defend herself! Her fight with Black was fair!”

“EVEN IF THE BAR WAS DESTROYED IN SELF-DEFENSE, THE ROYAL COMMISSION OF MAGIC SAFETY HAS ORDERED YOUR ARREST AND IMMEDIATE REASSIGNMENT OF RESIDENCE AND OCCUPATION. AS A MAGE WITH LITTLE CONTROL OVER HER POWERS, YOU ARE A VOLATILE ELEMENT AND A DANGER TO HUMAN-MONSTER RELATIONS. AS SIGNED BY HIGH COMMISSIONER TORIEL OF THE NATION OF TALE REFUGEES, THIS ARREST IS EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY.” 

Toriel. Your soon-to-be boss knows about your behavior. Your last hope has been extinguished.

**“Make me.”**

You call for help…

And darkness comes to your aid.


	8. Chapter 8: AVOIDing your Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first heavily romantic chapter of the fic. No NSFW for this one. I'm sorry for keeping you all waiting for so long. I had to rewrite this one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully I can crank out 9-12 a bit faster, now that the characters and main setup have been established. Thank you all for sticking with me through this. Every kudos, every comment makes me feel worthwhile as a writer, makes me feel like my stories are worth telling. I hope I encourage you to write your own stuff as well, because your stories are worth telling too. Just get a good beta-reader and take the hell off!

“Y/N? Y/N! Wh--- WHO TAUGHT HER THAT?!” Edge screeches. “RED! WHY WOULD YOU SHOW HER HOW TO SHORTCUT? OF COURSE SHE'D WANT TO TRY IT ON HER OWN! SHE COULD SERIOUSLY HURT HERSELF!”

Sweat pours off of Red’s forehead. “I didn’t teach her shit, Boss! I dunno what the  _ fuck  _ that was, but that ain’t like any shortcut I’ve ever seen! I can’t even identify what kinda magic she used!”

Papyrus starts to chew on his phalanges, then stops. “Maybe we should ask Sans and Stretch. They’re the only ones who know how to do it who’ll be awake right now. Unless they took a joint nap after analyzing the human’s SOUL.”

“We don’t have time to wait around then,” Red focuses. “Have you traveled via shortcut, Paps? I know the Boss has, but he’s usually unconscious for it.”

“WH- STOP GIVING AWAY OUR FAMILY SECRETS, RED!”

“Yeah, yeah, Boss. Hold out your hands, and  _ don’t. Let. Go. _ ”

Stretch’s room shakes from the pounding on his door. He shoves a pillow over his skull.

“One second. Lemme get dressed, I was taking a nap.”

“WE DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THAT! COME OUT NAKED IF YOU HAVE TO! JUST HURRY THE FUCK UP!”  _ Shit. Who shoved a stick up his ass? He was doing so well controlling his temper, too _ , Stretch groans internally.

“I USUALLY WOULDN’T CONDONE OF SUCH INDECENCY, BUT THIS IS ACTUALLY RATHER URGENT!”  _ Wait, Papyrus is here too? Must be important. _

“NOW, ASHTRAY!”

“Hey, hey, take it easy! I’ll be right there.” Stretch steps out in a tank top and boxers. 

“Okay, take it from the top, and maybe with less yelling. I’ve got a headache coming on.”

Edge is about to speak, but Red puts his hand on his brother’s chest and takes a deep breath.

“My bro tried to arrest Y/N and she cast some sorta bullshit teleportation spell. We gotta find her before she hurts herself. Also she’s under arrest.”

“Teleportation---you know what? My brain’s not gonna work if you rush through this, so sit down. I’ll go find Sans. Whatever happened, running around like headless chickens isn’t gonna help.”

Stretch throws Red a bottle of mustard.

“Thanks, dude. You always know how to help,” Red sighs with relief.

“I try. You two need anything?”

“I  _ need  _ to know where Y/N is,” Edge growls. Papyrus puts a hand on Edge’s knee.

“Would you happen to have something I can fidget with? It would help immensely.”

Stretch winks and tosses Papyrus a Rubik’s cube. “Knock yourself out.”

 

“Gaster! Where the hell are we going?” You scream, as the shadowy monster takes you further and further through a bleak, gray landscape. 

“You called for help, so we’re moving, subject.”

“Wait, nerd! We can’t go too far away!”

“Nonsense. You sounded distressed, so I’m moving you as quickly as possible from the source.”

“Gaster, I don’t have my SOUL right now!” 

Gaster stops in his tracks.

“What do you mean, you don’t have it?”

“Sans and Stretch were analyzing it back in the LAB.”

Gaster takes a deep breath.

“And why would you let them do that? Don’t you--- blast, you don’t know how magic residue works, do you?”

You pause. “Edge tried to make me show him my SOUL the morning after we crashed in the empty apartment. Said something about residue and fucking a skeleton.”

Gaster flushes bright purple. “Why, it’d be just like him, throwing around baseless accusations like that! How did you respond?”

Now it’s your turn to be embarrassed. “Um… I lied. I said I’d slept with a purple-eyed skeleton. Then it turned out that there  _ was  _ a purple-eyed skeleton living in the building. Then I actually almost slept with the purple-eyed skeleton’s brother and---”

Gaster holds a hand up. “Never mind that. Forget that I asked. All right… where should I put you, then?”

“I--- I dunno. Somewhere Edge won’t try to arrest me.”

“You’re being arrested--- of course you are. And your SOUL is in a lab. With Sans.”

“Yep. Welcome to my life.”

Gaster looks to the grey, lost in thought.

“No SOUL, hm? That means they won’t be able to track you very well. They’re unlikely to find me, as well, as long as I refrain from shifting my form further and taper down on my magic.”

Gaster shifts his bottom half into a much less terrifying pair of legs.

“Let’s get caught together.”

“What? I don’t wanna get fucking arrested, G! You might be welcomed back with open arms---”

**“I can assure you the contrary.”**

You stop. Gaster looks away from you again. You place your other hand on his.

“Why are you trying to throw yourself under the bus for me, Doc? It’s not gonna help me if you get caught.”

“Perhaps not in the way you believe I’m implying, subject. My presence would be unlikely to prevent you from being taken into custody. But perhaps it would be easier to face with company.”

You realize what he means.

“You don’t want to see them by yourself, either, do you?”

Gaster squeezes your hand, but doesn’t reply.

“Hey, G, come on, don’t be so glum. I’ll be there for you. From jail, or a shed, or wherever the Royal Commission of Magic Safety keeps ‘volatile elements’ like myself.”

Gaster smiles. “Well, if it’s the Dreemurr family we’re speaking of, it’s unlikely things will be too terrible, subject.”

“What the hell do you mean? I just lost my fucking babysitting job! Toriel herself signed the order for my arrest! The person whose kids I was gonna watch is gonna find out the rest of my history, and then what?! Come on, Gaster, you should know how much it sucks to be stuck in one place!” You blurt, before you can stop yourself.

“Shit. I’m sorry.”

“Your frustrations are understandable. It certainly doesn’t compare, of course. I’m not sure how they’re going to handle your case. If you’re so fearful, then why don’t we make a day of it?” He smiles nervously at you.

“What would we do? My apartment’s too far.”

“There’s a nice rooftop restaurant about a block away.”

You almost choke on your spit. “G---Gaster? You want to just… casually have dinner before I get taken into custody? What about your deadly magic? Wait, what about how sick I get when you touch me? Why don’t I feel it?”

Gaster chuckles. “Well, technically, subject, you are dead. You have no SOUL at the moment, but humans can exist, to an extent, without one. My presence disturbs reality some, but it’s not as if we’re actively trying to escape. The less I use magic, the smaller of a mess my existence makes. Well,” He looks into your eyes. “How about one last day of freedom?”

“I don’t have that much money…”

“I have more G than I know what to do with, Y/N.”

“How-- How exactly is it that you’re making money right now?”

“I haven’t. I still have funds from being the Royal Scientist, once upon a dream. I haven’t had a use for it. Once I left the VOID, I invested it before the gold market crashed. Most of the Aster families did, actually… no more questions. Come along.” His usual attire transforms into an antiquated, but lovely suit, one of those with a scarf and pin you’ve only seen in historical portraits.

A door manifests, and you step directly onto the busy streets. The sun is starting to set, and you haven’t let go of Gaster’s hand.

Then you realize something---

“Gaster, I don’t have anything to wear! I’m not gonna show up to some fancy dive dressed like this while you’re so…”

“So what, Y/N?”

He’s said your name. Your heart skips a beat. Hm. Weren’t you supposed to be dead?

“You look really put together.”

Gaster snorts. “Was that a dig at my old form there?” He pulls a pair of glasses from nowhere and sets them on the bridge of nasal cavity.

“Wh-- No, of course not!”

“Ah, that’s good. If you were, I wouldn’t feel quite so obliged to assist you in your predicament.”

He takes your hand and spins you. Startled, your clumsy feet almost trip over themselves. Your shoes transform into elegant, short heels, and your torn-up jeans unfurl into a matte velvet dress.

“Wait, what the fuck? I thought you weren’t planning on using magic.”

“I don’t want you to feel lesser when we enter the venue. I can make exceptions to my rules. I can be quite flexible, when I need to be.” 

“Oh, so you can make jokes about being a non-Newtonian fluid but I can’t?”

Gaster looks a bit surprised. “You know a bit of physics?” He watches you intently as you walk to the restauraunt, hand still in yours. It’s just about dinnertime at this point, considering how quickly the sun sets in the wintertime. 

“Shit, not that much. A little before I dropped out of college. A little from when I used to actually read. Don’t start ranting on me, Doctor Nerd.”

 

“So she got swallowed up by a black hurricane and disappeared?” Sans asks.

“YES! IT DIDN’T LOOK THEY WAY YOU, RED AND STRETCH DO IT AT ALL! AND POSSIBLY MUTT. IT WASN’T PERSEVERANCE, EITHER. I DON’T KNOW HOW TO EXPLAIN IT…” Papyrus moves the fidget cube faster, clearly distressed. “This is the sort of thing I wanted to protect her from. Well, partially.”

“All right, Paps. Got anything to add, Edgelord? Red?”

“The magic didn’t feel right to me either,” Red death-grips the armrest on Stretch’s recliner. “It was like… the absence of magic. Like she was just disappearin’ into thin air.”

“Stretch, grab the reading equipment and the human’s SOUL, and meet me in the parking garage. Paps, Edge, Red, you guys gotta take us exactly where it happened.”

He didn’t even finish his sentence before Stretch was out and back with the equipment.

“Nice. Where’s Blue?”

“Jogging, I think. We should be enough to find the human.”

 

Gaster presses the elevator button for you before you can stop him. He seems livelier than when you last saw him.

“What’s your relation to the other skeletons?”

“Well, Sans, Papyrus and I were once brothers, before my hubris got me ripped out of reality.”

You pause. “How far does it go? Do they remember you? Would they recognize you?”

Gaster shrugs. “It’s a possibility. When in the VOID, I was physically incapable of manifesting in any form. It was simply as if I had never existed, but things that would have never occurred without me still happened without my presence. Such as the CORE, the source of electrical power in the Underground; it was primarily my invention. When I disappeared, though, the CORE did not. Monsters simply… didn’t question who made it. It was like it was always there.”

You touch his shoulder.

“I know what that’s like. To work so damn hard and not get any credit for it. It feels like what you did doesn’t matter. Like you don’t matter.”

Gaster shakes his head.

“I took it too far. I was determined to break the barrier, no matter what. I experimented on human SOULs, I twisted time, I pushed my family away from me because I was so set on completing my task… I was not a good brother. A good monster. A good guardian. I was only ever a good scientist.” He laughs humorlessly. “And even then…. Not good enough. It was the human breaking the barrier that gave me the strength to escape my own. At the cost of omniscience from the VOID. It was a shift in my thinking, really, besides the human’s powers, that let me leave. I realized that if I chose to remain in the darkness in my obsessive search for knowledge, instead of mobilizing to rejoin my family, then I would be no different from the monster that got himself deleted from reality so many years ago.”

You watch the elevator rise higher and higher, and the streets and people get smaller. Why did this ride feel so long?

“What if you’re afraid?”

“I am afraid, and fairly certain, that Sans and Papyrus will not be happy to see me. And that I will disrupt the lives of their paralells, who may remember their own elders.” Gaster almost gulps.

“Who will be wondering where  _ they  _ are. Something I have no true answers to. Navigating the knowledge of reality through the VOID is easy. But knowledge of the VOID itself… not so much.”

The elevator door opens.

“Not so much that. Though it makes sense that you feel that way. You fucked up.”

Gaster winces.

“Not that they won’t forgive you! I’m sure you’ve had a shitton of time to think about it all. Everything you think you could have done better. I’ve got a human’s lifespan and I ruminate like crazy. I just--- I don’t feel like I can change. I don’t feel like I physically can.”

Gaster hums, and walks you to the front end of the restaurant.

“Oh, Doc! Bringing a friend?” A human, older man smiles fondly at you.

“Doc? They know you here?”

Gaster flushes a bit. “I know I shouldn’t, but that taste of the world with you reawakened my need to be out and about. I try not to distort too much of reality, but I can’t help myself.”

The waiter grins awkwardly. “There he goes, talking nonsense again! How do you deal with it, my lady? We do have a table, by the way, Doc, if you intended on asking.”

“Gracious! It’s so easy for me to get sidetracked…” Gaster adjusts his glasses.

“Yeah, Doc, who knows what it could be,” the waiter laughs, and leads you to a table. 

You still haven’t let go of Gaster’s hand. You wipe your nose with a paper napkin, thankful to find it clear of tar.

“I want to change,” you force yourself. “I want to be better. I just… I don’t feel like it’s possible. All these people are always saying, ‘What could go wrong?’, and all I can think about is, ‘What could go well?’” The waiter pours you both a glass of water.

Gaster rubs your palm between his phalanges, and your blood rushes to your head. You should have let go, damn it!

“I know it can be difficult to believe that anything will go well for you, Y/N. Being omniscient doesn’t help that tendency to anticipate every way that events could go wrong. Edge has chosen to take you into custody, but you do not yet know what will happen next. Are you going to order anything?” He meets your eyes. Why is he being so nice?

It’s weird. It’s not what you’re used to, that kind of nice. Tends to be more like what Red offers, if not worse: that “Oh, hello, lemme buy you a drink and a night in your bed” nice, but it doesn’t feel entirely friendly. 

Feels like a stupid movie is what it feels like, but some part of you isn’t feeling as repulsed as you usually would.

There’s something nice about it, warm, even.

_ Just a little longer, and then I’ll let go. _

“Y/N?”

“Oh-- shit, right. Sorry. Um…” The menu is incomprehensible, so you turn it over to where the desserts must be. Hopefully. Sacher torte. Thank fuck, something you recognize. Unfortunately Gaster takes your menu and turns it back to the front.

“I’m not letting you walk out of here with anything less than a full-course meal, dear, so if you wouldn’t mind starting at the beginning. Don’t worry, though, you’ll get your just desserts.”

“Fuck, I don’t know, Doc. I can’t pronounce half of these items.”

He chuckles. “Try.”

You gulp and fumble your way through the first page. Your professors had said you had a talent for languages, and Gaster seems to collude.

“You’re better at it than you alluded.”

“Shut up, G.”

“I will if you order something, Y/N.”

You squint at the menu, and after some haphazard google translating and scanning your brain for your old classes, decide on a plate of mussels, a light salad, and cream of mushroom. Gaster looks at you, as if waiting for something.

“What?”

“Are you trying to avoid running me a bill?”

“Wh-- No,” you deny. “I’m just not that hungry.”

“You didn’t even get enough at breakfast.”

Your hand jolts away from his. “What? Have you been spying on me?”

Now it’s his turn to cover for himself. “Well, not exactly---- yes. You’re still a subject of my research, and I really don’t have much else to do when I’m out here besides eat food. Not to mention how absurdly noisy your SOUL is. You telegraph harder than a third-rate boxer.”

Unsure of how to respond, you stare at the napkins. They’re folded into paper cranes. Of fucking course.

“Come dance with me.”

“Why should I?”

“You’re restless. I apologize for overstepping.”

Your hands dig into your skirt. Why are you wearing this? Why are you here? Why do you trust Gaster?

“You’re afraid.”

“I’m not,” you insist.

“Then what is bothering you?” He presses. You snatch his hand off the table and almost drag him to the dancefloor. Then you realize you have no idea which way that is.

“Are you trying to go somewhere?”

You growl in reply. Gaster shakes his head and leads you in the right direction. 

“Let me step in for a while, Y/N.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“What does that mean?” You croak before nearly tripping over a chair. When the fuck did that get here?

Gaster points behind you. You’ve been leaving a trail of knocked over chairs in your wake.

“You’re not really here right now, are you, subject?”

“Don’t doctor me. It doesn’t end well for anyone.”

Gaster shakes his head, a sad smile on his face.

“It didn’t end well for me, either… just let me lead, truly, and walk with me. Let me do the work for a while.”

“The work? What does----” But Gaster is already moving you onto the dance floor. 

It’s somewhat crowded, but not quite rush hour--- if that’s what you even call a full ballroom. You’ve never been.

Gaster gently places your hands in the right position, and begins to move you to the soft piano music in the background. 

Though the atmosphere looks formal enough, there aren’t many people dancing that way. You’re moving slowly, and Gaster seems to be humming. Your head is resting on his chest. You can hear… something. Something you don’t understand. But it’s alive, and comforting, and steady. 

Time seems to disappear. The turning of the clock slides away, and you lose track of the small circles Gaster’s hands are rubbing into your back, or his placid sighs as you turn languidly across the floor. The dress stops itching; the short heels stop hurting. The lights get darker, as you’re guided to the balcony, greeted by a velvet sky of demure stars.

A slow, cool wind passes through your hair, and you look over Gaster’s shoulders to the skyline. It’s lovely, but nothing compared to the soft touch of his scarf to your face. You can barely register yourself moving at all.

 

  
“How hard could tracking a single stupid SOULless human be?” Edge hisses as he walks, keeping a brisk pace.

“I know this will come as a shock to you, Edgelord, but  _ really goddamn difficult, _ ” Stretch remarks. “Something’s not right with the magic in this entire area. It feels clouded. Like trying to find an earring in the Dump.”

“I feel you, Stretch,” Sans agrees. “It’s getting pretty dark, and it feels like we’ve been going in circles.”

“We have been going in circles,” Edge growls. “I’ve counted 15 times we’ve passed that stray dog sitting on top of that dumpster. We’re not getting anywhere with this shit!” 

“Edge, please mind your volume. If Y/N is nearby, you might give us away,” Papyrus stops him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Edge huffs and keeps walking with the others. Red stays silent. His sharp teeth worry away at the drawstrings on his jacket. 

“It would have been nice to find out the human was missing from someone other than the building spiders. Maybe, I don’t know, any of you.”

The group turns, magic at the ready, and Mutt chuckles dryly behind them.

“Don’t look so surprised. If anything, I should be the one attacking you.”

“Uh--- Mutt! It’s lovely to see you again. We’re sorry, but this all occurred on very short notice and---”

“Don’t give me that shit, Papyrus. You guys didn’t want me or my brother along.”

“Don’t talk to him like that,” Sans warns. 

“Brother, I don’t need you to fight my battles.”

Mutt rolls his eyelights and takes a long drag of the dog treat in his mouth. “If you’d brought me along, this would have been over hours ago. But it’s been kinda fun, watching you pass me over and over again, getting all pissy with each other.”

“B--BUT HOW DID YOU POSSIBLY CONCEAL YOURSELF FROM US?! YOU’RE FUCKING BLUFFING!” Edge sputters, indignant.

“Hey, your bonehead friends there said it. Finding magic right now’s pretty fucking hard. And it’s hard to pick up on a broken SOUL like mine. ‘S why I’m such a good track dog. No one knows where I am, but I know where they are. My SOUL doesn’t make any interference. So, you want my help, or you gonna keep being self-righteous high school girls?” Mutt exhales the smoke into the group’s face. He makes a point to miss Red.

“You know what? Fine. Throw us a bone,” Sans quips.

Mutt takes another drag. His eyes lethargically survey the storefronts.

“Do you see anything?” Papyrus asks.

“Nothing much, besides all your noisy SOULs. But there’s places where it’s harder to see than others. Figure either the human or someone else is at the center of this trick, whatever it is. So basically, we move towards the confusion, we find our mark.”

“Please don’t call her that,” Stretch sighs. “All right, lead the way.”

 

“Would you mind sitting here for a time, Y/N? I have some short business to attend to,” Gaster murmurs to you. You nod and sit down. 

Your heart and mind are refreshingly still. A passing waiter offers you champagne, but you shake your head and stare at the glistening chandeliers above you. It’s as good a last night of freedom as you imagined for yourself. Certainly nothing like you expected when you were actually getting your hands dirty.

 

“Y/N. Here. She’s got no fuckin’ job, Mutt! What the hell were you thinking?!” When Red finds his words, rage rushes to his face. 

“Hey, we won’t know ‘till we poke around.”

“They aren’t even gonna let us in! Oh, yeah, just a group of skeletons in slacks, looking for a human woman, I’m sure they’ll just bend over  **backwards** to let us in,” Red spits at Mutt.

“Cool it, little man,” Mutt grins. “Even if they don’t let us pass through, she can’t stay there all night. She can’t go far if we have her SOUL. All we have to do is smoke her out, heh heh.”

Red’s shoulders drop. “Okay. That was good. I’ll give it to ya.”

Papyrus steps forward. “Perhaps I should be the first to step in. I, the suave Papyrus, know just the way to worm my way into humans’ hearts!”

“Go get ‘em, bro. But let us know if anything goes south,” Sans encourages him.

Papyrus comes back within five minutes with two tipsy middle-aged women on each arm, who giggle and wave goodbye. He leads the rest of the group inside.

“We’re welcome to pass in. Apparently someone has reserved a table for us?”

“Okay, this is startin’ to look like a trap,”  Red twitches.

“As if anyone could take us all on at once,” Edge scoffs. “Even so, if anyone feels like being a coward, I’m more than willing to drag the human out on my own.”

“Have you considered that your reasoning may be what ran her off in the first place, Edge?” A smooth baritone voice calls from past the servers’ podium.

“Wha----”

The skeletons are left speechless.

“WHO THE HELL ARE----” Sans holds up his hand, cutting Edge off. Tears well up in his extinguished eyelights, and Papyrus approaches cautiously behind. 

“You,” Sans chokes.


	9. Dimensionally Boxed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader is swept off her feet by another handsome skeleton...  
> then promptly knocked to the ground.  
> IT'S FINE GUYS, EVERYTHING IS FINE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings: Canon-typical violence warning for this one. Temporary loss of agency (physical) from grappling.  
> This chapter is mostly SFW. Don't get your dicks *COUGH* hopes up too much yet.  
> Beta read as usual by the lovely @rbssns (http://archiveofourown.org/users/rbssns); we're loosely working on some stuff; please go check it out.  
> Buy me a coffee (help me buy dildos tbh): https://ko-fi.com/dignissinbar .  
> Follow me on tunglr.hell: dignis-sin-bar.tumblr.com .  
> This fic will now be updating on Mondays and Thirstdays.

    Sans barely registers his eye reacting until there’s four walls of blue bones surrounding him and... that. That creature standing in front of him, wearing his brother’s face, whose SOUL Sans can’t grab with his attack.

    “If you’re looking for my SOUL, Sans, your guess is as good as mine.”

    Y--- you aren’t right. Where’s your SOUL? Where’s your magic? Who are you pretending to be?” Searing pain pierces Sans’s skull, and his eyelights go out. He feels himself lurching forward, but he doesn’t catch himself; instead, two holed, skeletal hands set him gently in a chair. An empty plate of mussels is in front of him.

    “Do we know you from somewhere, sir? Why do you have my friends’ names? You look familiar, but something isn’t right,” Papyrus sits down by Sans, and the mystery man sits across from them both. The others seem hesitant to get closer, so Papyrus nods to Edge as calmly as he can. But Edge stands his ground.

    “I’m staying here! So if you try to run...” Edge smirks at the mystery man. “I’ll be ready.”

    “Now, now, Edge, if you stopped to think instead of letting your temper run rampant, you’d recognize the odd magic signatures on me to be the same as the energies that have been clouding your detection all evening. As well as the source of the powers that relocated the human you’re looking for. So standing there isn’t going to do anything. If I decide to leave for any reason, I don’t need to run.”

    “That’s not gonna be enough, asshole. You aren’t the only motherfucker who can teleport,” red retorts.

    “Ah, and you were so capable of keeping up with me last time. Who says that I’m actually teleporting, Red? You’re all wasting time, trying to pick a FIGHT with me. My powers are literally unreal. While you all sit here threatening me and trying to shout me out of memory lane, Y/N is all by herself in the ballroom. If I’m gone for too long, she’ll come looking for me, only to find all of you. I doubt she’ll be very happy about that. She might just snatch her SOUL back from Stretch and escape.”

    “Well then what do you suggest we do, old man?” Mutt sighs and sinks into another seat, and Stretch follows, watching the new skeleton intently.

    “Well, maybe if you explained your reasoning to her calmly instead of forcing it on her and trying to chase her across the neighborhood, she’d come with you willingly. So perhaps send somebody less hotheaded than your red-eyed cousins there.”

    “Well, Sans, how about it?” Stretch asks, though he already knows the answer. Sans’s spine is hunched forward, fraught with tension like a spring. His phalanges are digging into his wrists so hard that they’re shining with a bit of marrow.

    “I think it’s best if I stick around here and keep watch. Why don’t you go, Stretch?” Stretch chuckles dryly. Sans knows the answer to this one too.

    “I don’t think she wants to see me right now. I’ve chewed her out once today.”

    “You and the human got into a fight?” Papyrus turns, surprised. “You seem the least likely of us to butt heads with her!”

    “Come on, Paps. If there’s anyone she’d want to see, it’d be you. You’re the one who saved her life, after all,” Stretch shakes his head.

    “But we’ve only just met! I can do my best, but I feel that the human would be less jumpy around someone she’s known a bit longer!” Papyrus rebuts.

    Gaster lets them continue to deliberate; Mutt looks at him once and slinks off without a word.

    _I wonder how this will pan out,_ the old scientist muses.

    It's not the first time Mutt shows up underdressed to something important. When he and his brother had reached the Surface and merged to the current timeline, it had been Sans, not him, that insisted on dragging Mutt’s old armoire of military regalia with them. If it was up to him, it'd still be gathering dust in the Underground. He hasn't opened that armoire since he moved in. Why should he get a uniform when his brother deserves it so much more? By the time Sans had earned his captainship, Mutt had reached a point of inefficiency where he barely considered himself employed, much less a proud member of the Royal Guard. He felt more like a mercenary, watching his older brother’s back for some scraps of gold and alcohol. He was in no way devoted to the cause of maintaining order in the Underground or breaking the Barrier. He was there for his brother, and his brother alone.

    Ironically, the only nice piece of clothing he wears regularly is someone else's Royal Guard Commander jacket. He doesn't know where the hell it's from. He certainly didn't earn it, but it's always been with him. With it zipped up, he almost looks like he's showing up to those old military balls, before all the old Boss Monsters either killed each other or disappeared to their own corners of the Underground, forgotten by the kingdom and public. A time directly after the war, though the jacket looks older still.

 _Why not, for the old sake of whatever pile of dust owned this thing before me?_ He zips up the jacket and looks down at his boots. Recently polished by his brother in a fit of rage. Perfect. He almost looked worth the place, but nothing could fix the hunch in his back and the massive bags under his eyes.

The human is off to the side, seated at a solitary chair near the balcony. Her eyes slowly move around the ceiling, between the chandeliers and the peeks of the night sky from the tall, modern windows. She looks as lovely as she does fucking lost, and a little bit of Mutt is relieved.

_That makes two of us, hm?_

No one, monster or human, gives him a second glance. It's one of the benefits of having a near indetectable SOUL, and a thin, tall body that easily disappears into the shadows. It had helped on the couple of assassination jobs that Alphys had sent him on, before his brother finally joined the Guard and Mutt dedicated himself to his training. 

He wonders if the human has CHECKed him yet. It the human knows how to find LV, and what will happen when she sees his.

“Throw an old pile of bones a dance?” Someone murmurs to you. It’s not Gaster, but you know he’ll be back, and you don’t want to dawdle till then. It’s just a dance, so you barely even look at the person who’s moving you. You register that they’re tall, and wearing a military-looking jacket. You lean into it, and the two of you start to move.

A bony thumb rubs circles into your hand, and that’s when you almost jump.

“Hey, hey, easy. It’s just me. I’m not gonna drag you to jail or anything. Just breathe and enjoy the dance,” Mutt puts his cheekbone to your ear. “This is gonna be a fast one, so you better keep moving your feet.”

You try to speak, but only a weird croak comes out.

“Heheheh, looks like I took your breath away there, Duchess. Dunno how I managed, since I don’t have any lungs.”

You gulp, unsure of how to approach. This is the skeleton that wanted you to fuck him through death’s door within fifteen seconds of meeting you. What were you supposed to talk about? _Oh, hey, how’s your brother doing since he almost killed me?_

“You don’t have to say anything there. Just keep time and let me feel you close to me,” he breathes. You shudder, but he pulls you closer, until your chests are pressed together. You thank the stars you’re not technically alive right now, or Mutt would probably feel your heart pounding through your sternum.

“Why are you here for me, Mutt? From what I saw, you barely leave the house. Do you owe Edge a favor or something?”

Mutt chuckles. “Not officially. His food’s leagues better than m’lord’s, so I go to his place for breakfast and leave. It’s the only time I’m really up to talking.”

“Rest of the time you’re trying to get into mages’ pants, huh?” You smirk. Mutt’s a lot smoother than Red, which to you is all the more reason to doubt his sincerity. You know the voice he’s using; it's the one night stand voice. Purely for the stage.

 “Nah, I don’t really try to get into anything, Empress. I spend most of my day trying to get out of doing as much as possible. Barely had enough stamina for you, but I figured I’d go out with a _bang_ ,” he chuckles.

“That doesn’t answer my question. This is my last night of freedom. Why follow me? How did you even get here? How many others are with you?” You try to insist, but he takes you on a sharp turn, towards a much smaller outpost than the overlook Gaster had taken you to. You assume that magic is used to shut the door behind you.

    “Nicer out here than in that stuffy place, isn’t it?” Mutt watches you, facial expression flat.

    The dreaminess of the music fades away and your common sense kicks in so hard your kneecaps could ring. You knew you were being had, and you've been had anyway.

    “Well played, Mutt. You took advantage of the sliver of a good mood I had going and drew me to an isolated place with no room to maneuver. You can hold me here as long as you want; there’s no viable escape other than back through the door or out the window, but we’re too far up for a jump to be survivable.”

    Mutt blinks slowly, then wraps himself around you and stares out to the balcony's edge. From far off, it looks romantic and unassuming, maybe even like Jack holding Rose at the deck of the Titanic. But it’s not a hold you want to struggle against so close to the edge of a building. Just because Blue would catch you didn’t mean Mutt would. Honestly, he looked like he couldn’t be bothered.

    His hot breath ghosts past your neck.

    “What sort of work do you do, human?”

    “I’m a babysitter.”

    “Bullshit,” he murmurs, coolness in his voice. “A babysitter would be screaming. Or begging. Or at least struggling a little bit.”

    “Actually, this is a hold used on kids when they’re having an outburst sometimes. It might not be used anymore, though,” you answer, pressing for time.

    “Then you’d know how to get out.”

    “I do, but I’m not gonna do it at the edge of a balcony. What can I say? I’m just a smart babysitter.”

    “Good form in that scuffle with m’lord for a babysitter,” Mutt continues.

    “Self-defense classes.”

    “Pretty quick to answer.”

    “College improv.”

    “What’s your major?”

    “A B.S. in Failure to Follow Through With a Degree.”

    “You do great under pressure,” he responds, a bit of energy to his voice.

    You do your best to shrug. “It’s gonna be difficult to get me out of here unnoticed. You’d have to keep me in this hold while walking to the door.”

    “Or I could just do this.” Mutt’s left eyelight flickers a burnt orange, the color of beer bottles, and your body stops listening to you. He starts walking, and you try to drag your feet, but your skin feels like it’s on fire when you do.

    “Welcome to orange magic, human. Better keep dancing or you might lose a leg.”

    “You’re about to lose your goddamn head if you don’t let go of me,” you hiss.

    “Yeah, I hear fire and healing magic are real good at decapitation, and stealthy to boot. No one would panic and run screaming because a girl sets fire to her partner in the middle of the ballroom floor. Sounds like a good way to get yourself into human prison, too, if you ask me.”

    “Who sent you?” You repeat.

    “I was bored and horny, and it’d be a shame to see you disappear after just meeting you once. I would help you escape, but my brother would have to go after you, and I’m not sure he’s got it in him to SPARE you a second time. Well, we’re almost to the dining area. It was nice knowing you, human. I don’t know what Edge is actually going to do with you, but he seems to like you well enough to make sure you don’t get killed. Can’t say the same for m’lord. Can’t say anything, really. You bring out some weird shit in him.”

    “Oh, I’m so sorry. I’ll make sure to let you die right in front of him next time,” you growl, and he grins humorlessly.

    “Well, here we are. I’m turning the magic off now. If you start running, the others are gonna panic, so I’d appreciate it if you saved me the headache of listening to them. They’re already rattled up over that hotshot you decided to run off and honeymoon with.”

    You reach the dining area and Mutt abruptly lets go of you. You almost trip forward, and you snap the heel of one of your shoes.

 _So that was it, huh? Magic’s over? No more dancing, no more “Duchess”?_ You think, almost sad.

    Then again, Red and Gaster had an awful amount of nice things to say when they wanted something. The only difference was that Red was too obviously hungry and Gaster was too genuine, too kind and caring in his actions.

_So he got past me this time because he’s dashing or whatever. Fine._

    Embers start to roll off the tips of your fingers, until another set of bony hands grab yours, snuffing them out.

    “Now, darling, Vincent is one of the first humans that talked to me when I stepped out of the pockets of the VOID, and I’d really rather break his trust by unwittingly bringing in an arsonist.”

    Gaster’s hands rub circles into your palms, and you take deep breaths. It’s almost… _almost_ … not enough to stop you from running again. It reminds you that you’re facing arrest for someone other than yourself. You grasp his hands tightly, and sigh. There’s exhaustion in Sans’s, Stretch’s, and even Papyrus’s eyes. Edge glares down at you, face stoic as a statue. Red wipes the sweat off his forehead onto his pants.

    You shake off Gaster’s hands, put your own hands behind your back, and walk towards your captor.

    “Do you have any idea the amount of trouble that you have put me through tonight, human?”

    Your body begs you to summon a massive arc of fire, to ask him what kind of trouble he’s put **you** through, how he’s gotten you fired, unlikely to work in your field ever again. To ask him how he’d feel if on the day he’d been forced to walk away from two little skeletons he considered his family, that you came up and arrested him.

    “Gaster?”

    “Y/N, please don’t start a fight here,” the scientist sighs.

    “Can I start it outside?”

    “Don’t think so,” is the last thing you hear before Mutt knocks you unconscious.

   

    Stretch closes the penthouse door behind him and sits on the massive crate. He’s usually one of the last of the skeletons to show up to these “house meetings” unless Sans expressly needs him, but tonight he shows up early. He is the one carrying the goods, after all.

    Blue, of course, is giving him the silent treatment. He was seething about being left out of the loop, and indignated that Stretch allowed the conflict to be resolved the way it was- with Mutt knocking the human out, teleporting her back, and shoving her into a crate like a corpse.

 

    “Still not gonna say anything, huh?” Stretch sighs and reaches for his cigarette pocket, but Blue slaps his hand away.

    “I don’t know! Maybe I’m not the one you should be asking that question, but surprise, surprise, she’s not going to be able to answer!”

    “Blue, you know I’m not a leader here. I’m just another judge out of four. Sans was freaking out over whoever this Gaster individual is, Red was being Red, and Mutt didn’t give me time to think of anything! I barely had any time to register what was happening! So why don’t you get pissy at him instead?”

    Blue narrows his eyes at him. “Oh. Pissy, am I, Stretch? Oh, this isn’t pissy. I’m disappointed in all of you. You should all know better! I mean, dragging a human out of a room and knocking her out? You could have set Papaya and my work back years if anyone had seen you! So stop wiping your hands off on the other judges and get off your butt!”

    Stretch takes a deep breath.

    “Well, Sir Pissington the Brave, you know where I’ll be.”

    “Papy, don’t you **dare** shortcut away from me---”

    But Stretch had already slammed one of the penthouse’s porch doors, locked it, and lit a cigarette.

    The door opens. Mutt and Black step through.

    “Oh, hello, Black! Are you as disappointed and angry as I am about all of this?” Blue hisses, hoping to find a fellow dissenter. Black, however, turns on his heels and burns his eyelights into Blue’s.

    “DON’T PLAY COY WITH ME, YOU FUCKING MUFFIN. YOU KNEW THIS WAS HAPPENING AND YOU CHOSE TO LEAVE OUR FAMILY OUT OF IT. YOU WON’T GET AN OUNCE OF SUPPORT FROM ME. COME ALONG, MUTT.”

    “Black, I had no idea about any of this until Stretch and Mutt showed up in my apartment with a human in a crate! I promise, I wasn’t the one who made the decision here! I’m just as in the dark as you!” But Black, of course, wasn’t listening. He and his brother were already seated at the couches, and Black was sending Mutt to get him something from the common dimensional fridge. Blue grabs the nearest pillow and muffles his curses.

    Papyrus, or Papaya, and the new skeleton, Gaster, stride in next. Immediately, Blue feels his magic sensing capabilities drop off. Gaster stands almost head to head with Papyrus, and two rows of disembodied, punctured hands trail behind his arms. There don’t seem to be any legs on him, either; his body simply glides across the floor, like a Moldsmal or Amalgamate, but with little to no mess. Whether he’s gliding or floating, Blue can’t discern.

**WINGDINGS (G. ASTER)**

*DEF: -- ATK: -- HP --/--

*Cousin It doesn’t seem to have a SOUL, so this is all you can read.

*Just be sure not to touch him.

    “Blue? I know my… brother doesn’t look like the rest of us, but it’s rude to stare so long without saying anything.”

    Blue jolts out of his seat. “Oh! I’m sorry! I ought to mind my manners! I’m Blue, the Magnificent Sans of Tale Nation, Swap Region! And you’re… Papaya’s brother? What happened to Sans?”

    Papyrus gulps. “Sans will be joining us when he has regained his constitution, and sense of common decency. I didn’t want to leave them alone in the same room, so… what would you like us to call you, in case more of you appear?”

    Gaster stiffens, his fidgeting hands suspended in motion. His seething white eyelights go out.

    **“There will be no more coming, or they’ll be damn sorry. I HOPE YOU AREN’T PRETENDING YOU CAN’T HEAR ME.”**

    Reality itself shifts for a quarter of a second, then Gaster blinks. He takes a deep breath and recollects himself.

    “If the worst comes to pass, you may address me as Wingdings. I am sorry for startling you,” Wingdings offers one of his hands to Blue, an apologetic look on his face. Blue carefully accepts it.

    “You can call him impostor,” Sans growls as he enters and steps around the crate. “I don’t know who he’s pretending to be, but I don’t believe him for a second, and I don’t want him near the human or her SOUL.”

    “Sans… we did this all the way home. Do we have to continue it at the meeting, too?” The bones under Papyrus’s eyesockets are stained with exhaustion.

    Sans heads for the dimensional fridge after Mutt.

    “Would you like to sit down, Dr. Gaster? I can get you some Sea Tea from the fridge,” Blue blurts, without thinking.

    “I’m not partial to Sea Tea, thank you,” Gaster wrinkles his nasal bone. “I wonder if yours was…”

    A dull ache sits in Blue’s SOUL, and he heads to the fridge for a distraction. _My Gaster, huh,_ he ponders, but the ache deepens sharply, and he lets the thought pass for now.

    Red and Edge throw the door open, together, and sit on the crate. Sans and Stretch coalesce on a corner couch, Blue sits next to Mutt, Black sits on an armchair by himself, and the crate is closed and silent. The faded purple SOUL is still in its container, atop a coffee table. It flickers occasionally, but remains otherwise stable.

    Sans pulls a bottle of spiked ketchup out and downs it in one go. Papyrus and Gaster wince.

    “All right, let’s get this over with.”

    “Ahem, Sans, we are not all here,” Blackberry interrupts, voice oozing with venom.

    Papyrus leaps up. “Um, of course we are! All of us! Black’s just being contrarian.”

    Edge raises a browbone. “Yes. We are all present, so to what do we owe this lovely interruption, brat?”

    “I thought we’d have some of our _old friends_ weigh in on the situation, seeing as otherwise they may also end up dragged in and simultaneously left out of the loop,” the Lieutenant chuckles.

    Red’s entire body seizes up in alarm.

    Sans tears across the room at his counterpart. “Black, if you did what I think you did, then this is the last FUCKING straw----”

    “Oh, I didn’t do anything. Your precious brother was the one who chose to bring in the monsters. I simply thought we should wait for them to arrive.”

    “And your courtesy and respect are always noted and appreciated, you worthless little gremlin,” a single red eyelight retorts from the door’s peephole. “Now where are you fuckwads keeping the little snack, and when are we gettin’ a piece?”


	10. Home on Deranged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Read "enjoys" some time one foot under while six skeletons who know little to nothing about her life try to debate her fate without her.  
> Key word: try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings: cannibalism mention, mention of being buried alive.  
> Help me buy a new drawing tablet! https://ko-fi.com/dignissinbar  
> Track me down on tumblr (18+): dignis-sin-bar.tumblr.com  
> Thanks to the amazing rbssns.tumblr.com for reading my stuff as usual!

Chapter 10: Home On Deranged

    You’re surrounded by flowers again, this time at the bottom of a deep hole. The surface where you were is unreachable, and you’re alive, alone, with no food. Your head is turned to look at the knife in your pocket. It’s in your hand now.

    _I’m guessing this isn’t how you wanted things to end._

*Death by knife would have at least been easier than death by starvation. No one would have come for me---- well, for us, anyway. At least, that’s what I thought.

    “Where did you get that knife? It looks just like new!”

    You glance up to find a tiny goat monster in a striped shirt and patched shorts. You try to stash the knife away as quickly as possible, but you slice your hand in the process.

    “Damn it!” You and the child hiss.

    “Are you all right?” The goat boy rushes to you, and you drop the knife to stop the bleeding with your hand. He looks to a dark corridor, then back to you.

    “I think I can heal at least a little bit of this while Mom gets here… so you won’t fall down. You must be a human if you’re bleeding. Don’t be scared!” The goat boy reaches for your hand, and the touch sends an instant reaction through the child’s body. It drops to the ground near the knife and curls up tightly, their eyes squinted at the goat boy in suspicion.

    “Wait! I’m just trying to heal you. Do humans not know what magic is anymore?”

    “Don’t touch me! Please!” The child begs, and starts to cry.

    “What’s all this, Asriel--- oh, goodness…” _Wait, is that Toriel?_

*Boy, you sure catch on quickly.

    Toriel looks at the child, eyes watering in return. “Stay still, my child… we’re only trying to help…”

    You open your eyes between the tears, but the world only goes black.

    You’re in a box. You twitch your fingers and toes. They’re the right lengths again.

    Mutt knocked you out and put you in a box. Are you about to be buried alive for resisting arrest? Without a fucking trial or anything? You search frantically for faults in the box, and find… air holes. If someone wanted to bury you alive, they wouldn’t bother to put those in, unless they want the dirt to trickle in a little bit at a time while you’re suffocating.

    You’ve never had this happen to you, but one of your old clients told you how to get out of it in case it happens; this client wasn’t particularly good at small talk, so he liked to brag about all of the ways that his enemies had tried to kill him.

    You tap the wood gently, to not draw too much attention. It sounds hollow and cheap. There’s light coming through the air holes, which likely means you haven’t been buried at all yet. There’s muffled conversation coming from outside, but you don’t give a shit about it right now. Monster laws or not, they can’t fucking bury you like this,  and you’ll die before you let it happen. You take a slow breath, hold it, and kick the top of the box as hard as you can. You hear the wood crack.

    “Shit, the human!” Red yells. Is he right above you?

    Well, he can get fucked. You cover your eyes to avoid splinters and kick again. Light breaches the box, and singes your eyes through your hand.

    “Hey, hey, easy there!” Red yells, but you haven’t even opened your eyes yet. You put up a defensive wall of flame and open your eyes.

    You’re in the skeletons’ apartment building, you think, since the skyline from the windows looks similar, if not further away. It’s more spacious, so it must be the penthouse.

    And everyone is pointing bones at you.

    “Oh, you’ve all got some nerve,” you spit. “Pointing attacks at me. Because you’re the ones who were thrown into a fucking crate.”

    “NONE--- None of us had anything to do with that!” Edge retorts. “It was that **stupid Mutt** who acted on his own and knocked you out!”

    “And you let it happen? The Terrible Edge, Captain of the Royal Guard, with the greatest of fucking reflexes, just stoody by and watched? Come off it. None of you are innocent. You all just let him knock me out and put me in a goddamn box while the two of you that I trusted the **most** sat on top of it.”

    Red gulps and drags his feet backward; a brief look of surprise crosses Edge’s face, before returning a seething glare.

    “Human? May I speak for a moment?” You hear an unfamiliar voice. It’s like Papyrus, but much quieter, with just a hint of scratchiness. You look up to see who may be the two most terrifying monsters you’ve ever seen in your life.

    The one speaking appears to be another of the tall skeletons, but he towers completely above all of the rest. His teeth are set in braces and he’s wearing pince-nez glasses. The sweater he’s wearing is clearly homemade. His brother, you presume, is wearing what looks to be a dark blue jacket with real animal fur in it. Earmuffs hang around his neck, and his work boots are caked in dirt. His single red eyelight almost fills his entire socket, and you try to look away from the massive crack in his skull. Despite this, you’ve never seen these two before, thus you have nothing against them. You extinguish your fire.

    “I know our appearances are a bit unusual, but could you please respond so that we know you are well?” The tall one asks.

    “Yeah, of course! I’m sorry. That was pretty fucking rude of me,” You apologize. “We haven’t met, have we? I’m Y/N. I’m a newly awakened mage, and these guys have been assholes about it from the beginning.” You step up to them and offer your hand.

    The red-eyed one takes it.

    “HUMAN, WAIT! IT’S DANGEROUS---” Edge screeches, but it’s too late. There’s silly string all over your hand, arm, and dress.

    The red-eyed one bends over with laughter. “You actually thought I was going to---- oh stars! You thought I was gonna fuckin’ stab this one! You idiots haven’t changed a bit since we were here! No wonder the human hates you!” He wipes a maroon tear from his eye. “I’m Axe. Axe the skeleton. I’m sure they haven’t explained why we all look the same either, but one step at a time.”

    “Brother! You know how the others feel about discussing family secrets with strangers!” The tall one flushes a coral pink.

    “I know, bro,” Axe smirks wickedly at Sans. “But most of these guys aren’t family. Don’t worry, morsel. You’re not alone here. We’ll make sure these boneheads don’t throw you in any more boxes. Believe me…. **This isn’t the first time they fuck over newcomers.”** Axe steps up to Sans, so close that they could almost kiss.

    “The human’s spending the night with us. You **won’t** be bothering her until tomorrow,” Axe states, toe to toe with Sans.

    Sans’s eyelights flash blue. “Really, now, Axe? You think you’re the one in charge of this situation? That we’re just gonna acquiesce to your demands?”

    Edge laughs coldly. “I’m as amused as I am disgusted, Teacup. We all know you're too pathetic and mangled to shortcut, which must mean that you expect to walk out of this building with the human and her SOUL.”

    The entire room charges with energy; it’s making your very hair stand on end. Eyelights are glowing all around the room. Gaster watches, detached. You look to him for guidance, but he averts his eyes.

   

    “ Guys, STOP!”

    Everyone turns to Blueberry.

    Tears are pouring out of his sockets, and there’s genuine hurt in his eyes.

    “Hey, hey, bro, what’s wrong?” Stretch leaps out of his seat and rushes to help, but Blueberry puts a gloved hand up to stop him.

    “...I think Axe is right,” Blue asserts. He wipes his tears and stands straight and tall.

    “You what?” Stretch asks, confused.

    “Hm. Honestly, I agree,” Mutt shrugs, and stands next to Blue. “You, Sans and Edge are always trying to force people into shit they don’t wanna do. You never fucking ask. You just do what you want. I kinda let it go ‘cause I’m used to being told what to do, but you haven’t once asked the human what she wants. And honestly…” Mutt’s eyes meet yours. They’ve got that same nervous look from when you fought Black on the balcony. “I feel really shitty about what I did. It was completely uncalled for. I just… panicked. I’m sorry, duchess.”

    “....All right. Okay. Well, if we’re having this conversation now, I suppose it’s only fair that the human be conscious for it,” Edge acquiesces. 

    “Only fair--- It is the only fair thing to do! How could you think it’s okay to discuss my fate without me?!” You shout, but Axe pats your back.

    “We’re not though, buddy. We’re having it tomorrow. On neutral ground. When everyone’s done fucking crying and actually gets their thoughts together,” Axe comforts you and looks around at the others. He's almost daring them to challenge him.

    “I think that’s a good idea, Axe. And thank you both for coming on such short notice,” Papyrus smiles meekly. He picks up your SOUL and returns it to your chest. The shock of your feelings hits you all at once, and you cling to Sugar for balance, struggling not to let your terror show.

    “You got it. See you boneheads tomorrow.”

 

    Your legs keep shaking as you step down the stairs, so Sugar takes you on the elevator and Axe takes the stairs. As soon as you’re outside of the building, Axe slips his earmuffs off and you step into a nice, new farm truck. You choose to sit in the back with him, who instantly falls asleep.

    The ride to their house is quiet; the city lights slip away and soon you’re driving through cornfields and rolling hills. You check the clock on the radio; it’s almost 2 in the morning.

    “We still have an hour of road to cover, human. Would you like to sleep on my brother? I’m sure he’d enjoy the company.”

    Normally, you’d protest, but it’s been a long and painful day. You rest your head on Axe’s shoulder, and he immediately wraps his arms around you, almost greedily. Your face is shoved into his shirt and jacket, and it smells like sweat and marinara sauce. It’s nice. You break apart.

The tears pour from your eyes, and soon you’re making the sounds of a dying animal.

    “Human! Are you safe back there? Is my brother holding you too tightly?”

    You can only respond with a pained groan.

    “Brother! Ease up on the human!” Sugar asks firmly. Axe opens his sockets and looks down at you. Then he holds you tighter, and doesn’t let go, even when you fall asleep.

 

    The smell of breakfast wakes you up in a messy room; messy, but less bad than Mutt’s. Every piece of furniture is hand-carved, with a woodburned seal of two crossed hatchets.

    “Hey, tidbit, breakfast’s ready. You won’t wanna miss it,” Axe croaks. His voice has a definite growl to it, but he doesn’t sound upset. It must just be where they’re from.

    “I’ll be right out.”

    “You probably don’t wanna be in your sweaty clothes, so just grab some from the short drawer on the left. They’re wrinkly, but a guy can only manage so much at once.”

    “You think my clothes aren’t?” You chuckle. “Is there anything I shouldn’t wear?”

    “Do I look like I own anything fancy?”

    You choose not to answer, and look through said drawer. Most of the shirts have logos of serial killers or Polish movie posters on them. You appreciate his selection. You grab the Pulp Fiction one and some sweatpants.

    “Good choice,” Axe grins when you step out. “That’s one of my favorites. Come get food. If you’re too full, I’ll show you the compost chute. Just don’t toss it in the can, please.”

    “Do you like blueberry pancakes, human?” Sugar asks from the kitchen. It’s an open-air house, so you can easily see him. He looks sleepy, but contented.

    You look at your table and chair, and notice the same logo. “Axe, did you make all this? This is fucking amazing!”

    “Heh, my hatchet arm was gettin’ kind of itchy, and butcher work is a little too close to home, so I took up carpentry. On top of the work we do on the farm.”

    “Have you never seen us at the farmer’s market in the city, human?” Crooks smiles and tilts his head.

    “Don’t usually go that far from my apartment, but if you’ve seen a speed demon in a rickety Harley, that’s me.”

    “Are you the one who broke all of the parking meters on 25th?” Sugar asks, concern on his face.

    “The one and only,” you grin nervously. “Finally paid off those hospital bills.”

    “Human, you need to be kinder to yourself! The others told me about your stint with the overpass and the bar, though the latter was obviously not your fault. I don’t see why Edge and Sans have to be so rash sometimes,” the tall skeleton tuts and serves you a plate.

    They’re amazing, and you moan a little on the first taste. Mortified, you reach for some orange juice and try to hide your face.

    “Food too good for ya, tidbit? It’s all orgasmic produce and flour.” You try not to choke on the juice. Axe chuckles into his coffee.

    “We’re trying to reduce our jargon footprint!” Sugar chimes.

    “It’s---” Axe shakes his head at you, a soft smile on his face.

    Why didn’t you get to meet these skeletons first?

   

    Edge doesn’t sleep that night. Too much pacing and wine. Too much of the human’s words circling around and around in his head.

    “You stood by and let it happen!”

    “The two of you I trusted the most…”

    Though Papyrus and him have been working on it, he’s still loathe to admit a mistake. This time, though, the mistakes are too big to ignore. He hears a loud thump from his brother’s room. _Just great_ , he sighs, his SOUL beating rapidly. It looks like Red isn't going to have a good night either.

    The thump’s followed by crashes. Edge puts his head to the apartment door. Someone’s skulking around outside. His brother seems to be awake as well, likely trashing stuff in his nightmares.

    _Fan-fucking-tastic. No one’s going to sleep, and the human’s going to show up angry at all of us._ He leans into his brother’s door.

    “You’re safe, brother. I love you. We’re on the surface, nothing’s changed, and I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you with all of my SOUL.” Edge chants it until the crashing stops, and steps into the hall.

    Blue’s in his battle body, and Papyrus is wearing one of his brother’s old jackets. They’re huddled on a bench in the hall.

    “They went back, didn’t they?” Edge whispers, his voice soft. Papyrus nods.

    “Sleepover?” he proposes. Papyrus and Blue stand up and walk with him towards the penthouse.

    “Did your brother FIGHT with his room again?” Blue asks.

    “You know their bad nights tend to line up,” Edge responds. “Hold on. I need to do something.”

    He pulls out his phone.

 

    After hours of staring at the trail, Black’s finally summoned the courage to sweep up the dust. It wasn’t much: a sliver of pain following his brother back to his room. His phone buzzes and he jolts into his chair, two bones in his hand.

    “Damn it… who’s bothering me?”

    **ANGRY TOOTHPICK: Come out.**

**TINY TYRANT: What the hell do you want.**

**ANGRY TOOTHPICK: The others and I are having a sleepover at the penthouse till our brothers come back.**

**TINY TYRANT: What interest could I possibly have in associating with the likes of you?**

**ANGRY TOOTHPICK: We’ve seen the dust. Get up here, asshat. You don’t have to do it alone. I’m sorry about what happened today. I made a mistake. We all did.**

**TINY TYRANT: How gallant of you to apologize over text.**

**ANGRY TOOTHPICK: Well, if you came out of your damn house, we wouldn’t have this problem. Come on. We’re not going to swarm you with hugs and cocoa or any shit. You don’t even have to talk.**

**ANGRY TOOTHPICK: Please.**

Black groans and opens the door.

    Everyone looks as tired as he does.

    Edge opens the door and makes cocoa, a massive smirk on his face.

    “You said you wouldn’t do that,” Black hisses.

    “I said _we_ wouldn’t. But I can do what I want,” Edge retorts.

    Papyrus and Blue lay across the couch, silent.

    “What’s with them?” Black grumbles.

    “When Stretch and Classic have a shitty night, they go back to the Underground. It’s a terrible habit. But there’s nothing we can do to stop them….. Just like I can’t stop Red when he sleep-FIGHTS his damn room. So we come up here and… get to exist for a while. I’m sorry for not inviting you before. You were right. We’ve been extremely inhospitable.”

    “It took you six months to say that, but I appreciate it,” Black responds. His eyes are watering, and he hates it as much as he needs it.

    Papyrus sits up. “Is the cocoa ready?”

    “Almost. Block chocolate takes time, creampuff.”

    “I know,” Papyrus smiles weakly. “Can I help?”

    “Are you feeling up to it?” Edge asks.

    “... I think so.”

    “Go get the blankets, then, please.” Edge nods to where they are.

    “Is there anything I can do, Edge?” Blue asks from the couch.

    “Can you choose a movie?”

    “Sure,” Blue nods and gets up.

    “How do you like your chocolate, Black?” Papyrus asks Black, and sits at the bar next to him.

    “What do you mean, how do I like it? There’s only two ways to make chocolate.”

    “That’s where you’re wrong!” Edge stands straight, a spark in his eyelights. “I’ve been experimenting with spices and additions, and there’s countless combinations to this wintertime treat!”

    Black raised an eyebrow. “Show me.”

    Edge adds cinnamon and cayenne pepper to Papyrus’s cup.

    “That doesn’t make any sense,” Black grumbles.

    “Frankly, I don’t get the appeal of that combo, but Papyrus likes it. Apparently an ancient group of humans added cinnamon and cayenne pepper to theirs. Blue takes his with cheese and cloves. Apparently he had it during his cultural exchange. I just like mine with extra cocoa powder.”

    Black looks around, uncomfortable.

    “My brother told me that the coffee shop nearby had liquid white chocolate.”

    Edge raises a browbone. “I’ll see what I can do next time. Are marshmallows all right for the moment?”

    Black nods.

    “.... Aren’t you going to make fun of me?”

    “For what?” Edge shrugs. “White chocolate is an acceptable choice. It doesn’t make you weak or anything… is that really what I sound like when I speak to you? I mostly talk down in jest, but that doesn’t excuse things.”

    Black nods again.

    Edge adds extra marshmallows.

   

    You spend the day helping with tasks around the farm. Axe keeps you busy, and his morbid jokes make you smile. The sun and clean air feel amazing on your skin, and Crooks comes around every hour or so to make sure you’ve eaten and drank enough water.

    “When we met, did you say you used to live in the apartments?” You ask Axe while in the middle of pulling up a particularly stubborn patch of mint.

    “We did our best to, but most of the others proved rather judgemental and inhospitable, unfortunately. Papyrus and Edge did their best to stand up for us, but the younger brothers’ opinions tend to be dismissed. Sans and Stretch tend to be very controlling of the group, and my brother never handled orders very well. Mutt and Black moved in just as we were moving out, so we spoke very briefly.” Sugar smiles sadly.

    “What did they have to be judgemental about, though? You guys just look a little different from everyone else, unless I’m missing information here,” you respond.

    Is it possible for a skeleton to go pale? “I’m going to go powder my sockets!” Crooks announces, and dashes back to the house.

    Axe sighs.

    “Show me yours, and I’ll show you mine,” he states dryly.

    “Sorry, I’m not following.”

    “What’s the real reason those bozos are trying to drag you around on a leash? If you tell me that, then I’ll tell you about us. You can think what you want about it, but if I ever see you hurting my brother over it… **My hatchet arm and I will be back in business.”**

    You gulp, but the sentiment is familiar. If anyone ever told your mom what you used to do for money, you’d quickly resort to similar threats. You had some old coworkers and mentors that felt the same; that time in their lives was over, and they were existing quietly in farms like these, or apartments in unassuming neighborhoods.

    “I’ve got… a long self-destructive streak. And a bit of a criminal history that I don’t think they know about yet, except maybe Red. I was muscle-for-hire at one point, and I may have some deaths on my hands… they were in self-defense. I was never an assassin or a mercenary. I did what I had to do to protect my clients, and nothing more.”

    Axe chuckles. Then he grasps his face and cackles. Something about it wakes all your danger instincts. “I knew there was a reason I liked you… you’ve got it, too. Show me. Show me your SOUL,” he grins widely and steps closer, until you could almost kiss.

    “W--why? You could just CHECK.”

    Axe sighs. “No, actually. I can’t. Besides the effects on my ruggedly handsome face, events in my timeline have almost completely fucked up my magic output. I can’t CHECK anyone unless their SOUL is out. Like the boneheads said, I’ve lost my ability to teleport. So let ‘er out, tidbit.”

    Nervous, you let your SOUL drift out of your chest, and your eyes instantly water.

    Axe had seen his fair share of damaged SOULs, monster and human. A human SOUL always displays faded color, scuffs like mistreated shoes, and in worse cases, surface level cracks.

    Frankly, he doesn’t understand why this human was still alive. There’s barely a clean surface on her SOUL, the purple light emitting from it is dull and even grey, and there’s several foreign sources of magic on it in varying traces, including a black, empty magic that he can barely stand to look at.

    **Y/N**

***CHECK***

***LV***

***LV: 3** **KR: 1**

***They aren’t the cleanest hands, but you’re not one to judge anymore. Cleaner than yours is enough.**

“What happened---” But before he can finish asking, the human snatches her SOUL back and shoves it into her chest, trembling.

    “Well? You said you’d show me yours, so out with it. I-if you’re still comfortable,” she asks, and her voice softens.

    “Well, I mentioned timelines, but that’s not all there is to it. You’re gonna wanna come inside for this, actually. You okay to walk?” He asks, concerned. The human’s legs were quaking again.

    She nods, and they set back in time for dinner.

 

    “Papaya called, brother! He says we can come in at 7 with the human, if she’s feeling ready, and that she can take her time if she’s not. So I made dinner early, just in case!”

    Axe takes his boots off and sits at the table, and the human does the same. She doesn’t respond to the mention of her, instead staring at some posters without a word. “Thanks, bro. But I think this needs to be taken care of first.”

    His brother’s face sinks, and his cheeks flush with shame and sadness.

    “Hey,” Axe says, and he walks across to the kitchen to put a hand on Sugar’s shoulder. “You don’t have to be here for it if you don’t want to. I’d never let anything happen to you, you know that?”

    Sugar shakes his head and stomps his foot. “... No, Sans! It’s not fair that you have to bear this by yourself! I want to be here… I want to help.”

    Axe gives Sugar a brief hug. “You’re the coolest.”

   

    You vaguely hear the exchange, but your mind is elsewhere; particularly on how disgusting your SOUL must have looked to Axe, and how it looks to yourself. The influence of Gaster’s magic appears to have expanded, and its natural color is deadening further. You feel broken and brittle, like a strip of magnesium after it’s been burned.

    Like you could just blow away in the right gust of wind.

    “Hey, human, do you wanna meet the boneheads tonight, or do you want to rest here another day?”

    Something about dust in the wind feels familiar. Like golden flowers.

    “Human. Are you alright?” Axe puts a hand on your shoulder, and you jolt. He grabs hold of the table tightly, tight enough to leave dents, but doesn’t hurt you.

    “I’ll live. And yeah, I’m okay to see them tonight. What did you want to tell me?”

    You see Axe’s expression drop, and he looks incredibly tired, but wary.

    “The boneheads, and every monster you’ve ever met, has probably lied to you about the logistics of where we’re from.” He takes a deep breath.

   

    “You know about alternate universe theory, right?”

    You nod. “Told you I went to college. I survived my intro physics class by the skin of my teeth.”

    “Nice. So, once upon a time, deep underground, an asshat by the name of W.D. Gaster fell into the Core, the Underground’s main source of power, and became split across time and space, so that he existed everywhere and nowhere at the same time. It was pretty interesting seeing him, actually, considering I don’t remember him for shit.”

    “He told me he used to know everything until he left something called the VOID,” You respond.

    “So, yeah. The VOID. There isn’t supposed to be life in there. It’s the space between universes where no one should fucking be, but as soon as he fell into the Core, there was a pulse of life between all of these places, and the timelines started communicating. And a bunch more Gasters started, of course, falling into the Core. And the more crowded the Core got, the more we drew attention to some… unsavoury individuals who were getting angry about just how many universes and timelines there were. So, yeah, eventually everyone’s meddling with the universes and timelines ended up converging them all at one point. This one. There’s no way to go forward or back unnaturally anymore. This is it.”

    Your head is spinning a bit, but it’s still not as bad as when fire came out of your goddamn hands.

    “Why tell me this? Are all of the pairs of brothers from different universes? Where are you from? Why are you all so different?”

    Axe steps away, breaks into the fridge, and pulls out a jar of what you’re assuming is moonshine.

    “You know the story of the Barrier and the humans, right?”

    You nod.

    “We’re from a… “special” timeline where our king was killed by the second-to-last human who fell. Our new queen was a fucking cunt who couldn’t manage resources, and when we ran out of food, we had a choice of eating each other, or the humans who fell to survive.”

    You glance over at Sugar. His eyelights are out, and he’s sniffling.

    “... do you hate us, human? Do you no longer want to be friends?” His voice cracks, and his glasses are starting to fog up.

    Your SOUL feels like it’s breaking, all over again.

    “Crooks, I’m an ex-bodyguard. I’ve got deaths under my belt. Regrets in my head. How could I hate you for doing what you had to in order to live?” You step closer to him, arms open, and he embraces you and lifts you off the ground, sobbing violently.

    “H--HUMAN… I’M SO HAPPY… I knew I was right about you, I knew it… but I was so scared!” He blubbers, and you reach out in his grasp to get him a tissue. He blows his nasal sockets so loud that he honks.

    “No problem, Sugar. I mean, you’re the ones who stuck up for me when I got out of the crate. I’ve got your backs. Spines.”

    “Well, dinner is served,” Sugar smiles and uses another tissue to wipe his eyesockets. “Let’s eat it and secure victory at the apartments!”

    Axe chuckles. “Unless you’re feeling kind of _spineless_ , human.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! What a ride! Now then, the update's probably going to be postponed till Friday-Saturdaybecause this one took so damn long. But good news: you get to decide what happens in Chapter 12!  
> I would like all of you to decide which of the skeleton brothers Read will be moving in with! The strawpoll is down below, so just copy the link and vote once.  
> https://www.strawpoll.me/15167248  
> I will, of course, be writing out Chapter 11 before that! https://www.strawpoll.me/15167319


	11. Stretchond Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Negotiations resume, without anyone in a box.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The winners of the poll are revealed! This chapter is SFW. Brief depression mention.

    The human opens the truck door for Axe and lets him in first. Then she rolls up her t-shirt sleeves and helps his brother pack up a couple of boxes of homegrown herbs for tea, as “a sign of goodwill”. Irritation rattles in his skull. He tries to insist that they didn’t owe those bastards a thing, but the way his brother’s eyesockets gleam when he relents is worth it.

    Tension radiates off the human’s SOUL as soon as she buckles her seatbelt. She glares at Axe to do the same, and he shrugs and puts it on. He’s sure his brother would appreciate it, but he always forgets. He forgets a lot of things. Her magic is practically running in circles in her body, but she’s got the self-control not to let out a single ember. Sugar’s knee is shaking in the driver’s seat; he can feel it too. Axe nods to him through the mirror.

    “When my brother and I were in the service of the Queen and she’d… stopped being the person that I loved, I often talked over what I was going to say in advance, and how I would counterattack if something went wrong.”

    Axe’s eyelight shrinks to a small red pinprick. Why would he share _that_ , of all things? Didn’t it hurt? The human seems confused, too. If she presses him on it, though, he’s gonna throw her out of the car and let her bleed to death, he swears----

    Why would he do that? He pulls out a piece of thick gum and shoves it into his mouth. _Focus. Focus on the gum. Focus on chewing and your head’ll sort itself out again. I’m not that guy anymore. I’m_ **_not_ **.

    “Papyrus, you don’t have to talk about that if it hurts you.”

    _Well, that’s a good sign._

    His brother grips the steering wheel tighter.

    “Well, I want to! So… I’ll tell you, if I need to stop.”

    The human holds her hand out, then takes it back.

    Sugar shakes his head and continues.

    “So, if you want, we can talk about what you’re going to do, and how we can support you, on the way there, before we go inside. We can even roll the windows down and take the scenic route, if you aren’t too cold.”

    Axe smiles a real smile, for just a second. Damn it, his brother is just too cool.

    “I’d be happy to take the scenic route. But… it may take me a while to get my thoughts out. I just… I feel really betrayed by what happened, and I’m a little sore, I guess.”

    Axe can’t stop himself. He’s gripping the human’s hand firmly.

    “That doesn’t make your thoughts any less important. So if you get a little hot-headed at the meeting, let ‘em have it. They’re the ones who fucked up.”

    The human meets his eyes, and he can feel the spark of who she must have been. She turns away.

    “I just want to know why I’m upset. If I can put that into words instead of just being angry, then they might listen more and react less.”

    “That’s an excellent strategy, human! So, why are you upset? When you get too upset and start losing your words, take deep breaths, count to ten, and try to start where you left off. Soon, you’ll be a master of self-control, just like my brother!”

 

    It’s two hours until the meeting.

    Mutt is through all the packs of dog treats in the house. He finished the last one around 1 o’clock, and as usual, he doesn’t know what to do with himself now. His brother hasn’t knocked once since he woke up. Hopefully he isn’t in too much trouble, but his bones weigh too much for him to get up and check.

    He weakly picks up his hand, reaches for his jacket, and buries his face in it. Through all the dust, all the tears, all the blood, he could still pick it up.

    The smell that told him the jacket wasn’t really his.

    Damn it, damn it, damn it. He’s up. He’s finally up. He rips through the piles of things in his room to the absurd, ornate frame he’d salvaged from somewhere underground. It’s covered in a tarp; looking at it makes him feel sick, but the compulsion to hold on to it had been too strong to get rid of it, so he’d covered it up. He peels away the tarp, and sure enough, the same jacket’s faintly painted in the bottom right corner. The entire face is missing. All he can see is the tip of an old Guard helmet. The smell’s the same here, too. Is he finally going crazy? A final bout of lucidity before he dusts here on the ground, alone and surrounded by used dog treats?

    He throws the door to his room open and almost knocks over a cup of cocoa. Had his brother made it for him? There’s steam coming off of it, so it’s fresh. He inhales into the mug. Bourbon extract. Dark brown sugar. Molasses. Paprika?....

    Had Black tried to get it as close to barbecue as possible?

    Mutt’s tears won’t stop falling. He doesn’t even feel himself sit down in that one armchair, the one Black had tried to insist on leaving behind, and curl his legs into his body.

    When he’s done crying and the cup is empty, someone reaches for his hand.

    “M...M’lord?”

    “I didn’t get you that to make you cry, Papy.” Black’s voice cracks.

    “Ah, damn, you weren’t supposed to see this,” Rus laughs weakly.

    “Where the hell do you think I’ve been? Think I’m just going to leave you in there to dust with your dog treats?”

    “Wasn’t thinking ‘bout you.”

    “Of course not,” Black responds, and playfully shakes his head. “Edge wishes to speak to you. I don’t have a damn clue why, but I have my own machinations to set into motion, so go meet him outside our door. Also, the ideas for the flavors were mine, but the chocolate is from him.”

    A gift? From Edge? Something weird’s going on. That’s enough to get Rus to wipe his eyesockets hard and stand up.

    “Hey, Sans?”

    “Yes?”

    “I love you.”

    “Get out of my house,” Black grumbles back, trying not to crack a smile.

    “See you tonight, m’lord.” Mutt pauses in his tracks. “What are you planning?”

    “Not now, Mutt.”

    Mutt nods slowly. “I trust you.”

    “Now shoo.”

 

    Edge bites his phalanges, but quickly wipes them off when he hears steps approaching.

    The Mutt looks worse for wear than usual. There’s some dust on his jacket, likely his own, and he reeks of dog treats. He’s been crying, and his eyelids look puffy and scrubbed.

    “Can we speak in the penthouse?”

    Mutt shrugs. A little dust trickles from his cheek. “Doesn’t matter to me.”

    Edge is quiet in the elevator, and Mutt fiddles with the medals in his pockets.

    “What do you think of this Aster fellow?” Edge forces out. That isn’t what he wants to talk

about, but it’s useful information and the elevator ride is making them both antsy.

    Mutt’s brows furrow, and eventually, he responds.

    “Not sure. Something ‘bout him tells me he’s not lying, but he’s not giving us the whole truth. He smells familiar, and he was saying some suspicious stuff last night. About keeping somebody out of our reality or something.”

    “Hm. Would you assist me in keeping an eyesocket on him? Sans seems too blinded by distrust to be reliable in his vigilance.” Edge sucks in a breath.

    “I know I have been… less than charitable to your family. It was foolish of me, especially having been in your shoes a year or so ago.”

    “Don’t blame you,” Mutt responds. “Distrust is in our nature. You’re looking out for your own, and me for mine. I don’t care much about being part of stuff… I mostly make a fuss for my little bro.”

    Mutt pauses, and thinks for a while.

    “He deserves better company than his dustpile of a brother.”

    The door opens, and Edge looks back at Mutt, unable to contain his rage.

    “ **Never fucking say that again.** ”

    “What? It’s true,” Mutt lays on one of the sofa beds and watches the last of the sun die.

    “You’re a fucking idiot. Black loves you more than himself, and that’s saying a lot. He’s wearing himself down to the bone worrying--- oh, goddamnit.”

    Edge sees what he’s looking for: a little spark in Mutt’s faded eyelights.

    “How would you know? You never fucking talk to him. You just feed me breakfast.”

    “...Things are changing. I believe it to be the human’s influence. Something about her is exposing the weaknesses in this place. I believe she’s stirring things up for the better.”

   “Hm. You wanna keep her here and make her fix this mess or somethin’? That’s not exactly fair.”

    Edge jolts. “Oh, absolutely not! I want to keep her here to show her how to harness her magic. And frankly, herself. She’s capable of so much just from raw ability, and I would hate to see her go to waste.”

    “Her, or her powers?” Mutt questions. “Keep your intentions straight. She’s not gonna trust a word any of us say unless we’re honest. The one thing none of us seem to be able to fucking manage. Myself included.”

    Edge lays by his side, but keeps a respectful distance.

    “I want you to take the human in.”

    Mutt almost chokes on his tongue. “You want us to fucking what?!”

    “Well, at least offer. It’s ultimately her choice. But, as she’s legally my ward, I don’t want her to feel more commanded by living in my home. Sans and Stretch are even more controlling, and I don’t want to cause tensions between those brothers. They’ve got enough problems between themselves. Axe and Sugar are too far away. I truly feel you two are the prime candidates.”

    “You think she’s gonna feel smothered by you guys? M’lord’s gonna make her _crazy_.”

    “She proved herself somewhat in combat with him. I doubt she’s going to just take orders from him, and I know he respects power and tenacity.”

    “Heh. Well, it’s up to my bro, and her, ultimately, but I think I can see your point.”

 

    Mutt scrutinizes the skeleton next to him. Edge is… well… still on edge.

    “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

    Edge wipes sweat off his brow. “I knew I was right to consult you. Not a damn thing gets past you.”

    “You can kiss my ass after you tell me what you’re thinking, Edge.”

    “I would never---!” Edge’s skull flushes with embarrassment and indignation.

    Mutt waits.

    “I think you and the human have similar internal problems. SOUL-wise. I feel that your brother would be happy for you to have other company. But I’m overreaching again.”

Mutt shakes his head. “Nah, not this time. Nice to know someone besides m’lord cares, at least a little.” He gets up and stretches. “Welp, Y/N should be here soon enough, and my brother was talking about some ‘dark machinations’, so I should make sure the house is still in one piece. See ya, Edge. Good talk. Thanks for the chocolate.”

Edge nods goodbye. Well, that had gone leagues better than he’d expected.

    He still needs a drink.

 

    You’ve reached the apartment, and Axe gives your hand a squeeze before letting it go.

    “Thanks, Sans.”

    He grunts in response.

    “Are you ready, human?”

    You take a deep breath. Your magic is fluctuating, and you set a fire over your hands to blow off some steam.

    “I’m gonna be. As soon as we get up the stairs. Just nervous is all. What if nothing changes? What if they still don’t listen?”

    Axe grins, his face tight. “I have my ways, if things go south.”

    “Sans… please don’t,” Sugar responds.

    Axe sighs and opens the door for you. Sugar ducks a bit before he goes inside. Axe takes the stairs again, and you and Sugar step into the elevator.

    “Human, you may want to stop burning that. The smoke detector in this building is quite loud.”

    You dispel your magic. You didn’t even know you were still burning it.

    “You sure you don’t need help with the crates?”

    “Absolutely not! The Great Papyrus is stronger than an ox!”

    The door opens, and your heart drops into your stomach. Everyone else is already here, even Axe. There’s a new table in the middle by the fireplace. Upon closer examination, it’s Edge’s table pushed together with someone else’s. Stretch and Sans are already sitting there. _Of fucking course they are_ , you grumble to yourself.

    “Uh, welcome back, human!” Papyrus croaks, and wipes the sweat off his brow with a kerchief. You didn’t think people even carried those anymore.

    “Ah, hello, Papyrus! I’ve brought home-grown herbal tea as a sign of goodwill!”

    Papyrus’s face instantly brightens. “Thank you, Sugar! I brought you some echoflower seeds! They were a gift from Toriel, but they won’t exactly grow here in the city.”

    “Hand-me-donws. Fantastic,” Axe mutters.

    “Brother, don’t be rude. These are absurdly expensive. Thank you, Papaya! I’ve been trying to get these for a while!” Sugar pockets the large bag of seeds and gives his counterpart a hug.

    You catch a barely audible “thank you” from Papyrus to Sugar, before they let go and take a seat. Sugar and Axe sit on either side of you, with Sans and Stretch across from you. Blueberry chooses a seat next to Mutt again, and Black is to the other side. Red and Sans sit in their own corner.

    “Where’s Gaster?” you ask.

    “He didn’t feel he had enough information to add to the discussion, so he chose to sit it out,” Stretch responds. “Honestly, I think he just wanted to dodge the yelling, but I don’t know him well enough yet.”

    “No one _will_ be getting to know him. He’s only in that apartment until he finds somewhere else to live,” Sans cuts him off.

    “Hey, that’s not your decision to make,” Mutt argues. “Sure, you can kick him out of the building, but you can’t stop us from talkin’ to him. Fuckin’ megalomaniac.”

    “Gentlemen! We can discuss the matter of Gaster later. Now may we _please_ focus on the task at hand?” Edge sighs.

    This is headed off to a great fucking start. It takes all of your willpower not to join into the Gaster argument. Axe puts a firm hand on your back, and you relax a bit.

    “Alright. First things first.” Sans seems surprised to hear you taking charge.

    “Edge, what the hell made you think confiscating my rights over a magical accident was a good idea?”

    The skeleton in question looks down. There’s tiredness in his eyes that you didn’t see before.

    “I felt that you were headed down a dangerous path, between the volatility of your magic, your choice of employment, and the troubles with your SOUL. I couldn’t let you leave in good conscience. I should not have intervened in the way I did, and I recognize that I destabilized your life in the first place.” He stands up, eyes still averted, and holds his hand out. Warily, you take it. He bows and kisses it.

    “On my honor as a Guardsman, my sincerest apologies. I tend to… let my protective instincts and my temper get the better of me.”

    He wants to protect you? He lets go of your hand and returns to his seat while your face is still pink. He still won’t meet your eyes.

    “All right. I accept your apology. I wish you had handled things better, but your intentions were good.”

    Papyrus raises his hand. “Actually, human, I wanted to apologize as well. As a lawyer specialized in human-monster interaction laws, it was I who recommended the idea to Edge in the first place. However, I had hoped to proposition you in a more peaceful way.”

    “Papyrus? You’re a lawyer? That’s amazing!” Picturing him in a suit makes you happy.

    “Well, originally I had been the Underground’s mascot, but I felt that my services would be put to use better elsewhere. The law is like one big puzzle after all, and I adore puzzles!”

    “Wait. That means… you actually brought Axe and Sugar into this?” Sans realizes.

    “I’m sorry, brother, but I feel that your grip on the rest of us is too tight, and since my interactions with Mutt, I’ve been reconsidering how we approach things as a family. I felt that Axe and Sugar would be able to express my viewpoint better, considering how we acted towards them when they still lived in the apartments.”

    Sans goes silent.

    Stretch seems to be thinking.

    Red eventually speaks up. “Look, princess, the boss and I have been talkin’. We know we can’t give you back your old life, but we wanna at least help you build a better one. We’re willing to let ya work for whoever you want. The law says you gotta live under our care, but Boss thinks it’s a better idea if you pick who ya wanna live with. We can’t take back the claim… but we want you to be comfortable.”

    “Wh- you never told us about this!” Stretch protests, his face turning a bright orange. “Who’s to say we want her in our house? You’re the ones in charge of her!”

    “Well, obviously, both parties have to agree. That’s how civilized conversations are **supposed** to work, ashtray.”

    Stretch curses under his breath.

    “Brother, can we---”

    “ **No.** ”

    Blueberry’s eyes water, and he quickly sneezes into his scarf. When he comes out, the tears are gone.

    “The human can stay with us,” Sans orders.

    “I decline,” You retort.

    A brief flash of anger passes over his face.

    “I believe that the human would best be housed elsewhere as well,” Papyrus seconds, wincing.

    “My brother and I would enjoy housing the human, but we’re likely too far away for your comfort, Edge. And unfortunately we cannot move back to the city.”

    “I understand,” Edge nods. He turns to Black and Mutt.

    “We would like to house the human,” Black asserts, as calmly as he can.

    “Absolutely not!” Sans shouts.

    “Where do you suggest she live then? She needs to be with somebody, and you need to respect Edge’s decision. Honestly, you need to start respectin’ everyone’s choices, including Y/N’s.” Mutt glares. “Human, what do you think is the best choice for you?”

    “C… can we take a recess? Just five or ten minutes,” you stutter.

    “I don’t see why not. We all seem to need it,” Stretch agrees. The skeletons scatter to the numerous couches, chairs, and balconies around the penthouse.

    Papyrus opens the herbal tea crate, and you peek under his shoulder.

    “Can I help you, human?” He asks, still nervous.

    “Thanks for sticking up for me. I appreciate it. I wish you’d done it before, but I’m glad you’re doing it now,” you reply. “Also trying to get ahold of some tea.”

    “Worry not!” Sugar joins in. “What kind would you like? We have blackberry, cherry, peach, blueberry… and mint! My personal favorite!”

    Blue rushes over to be served. Black remains in his spot at the table.

    “Cherry works fine,” you nod.

    “Nyehehe! Prepare to be amazed!... Where are the mugs? I never really came up here much.”

    Blue leaps up and returns with an armful of mugs.

    “Now prepare to be amazed!” Sugar hands out teabags, and pours the water into your mugs. There’s an odd energy emanating from the mug. Is it magic?

    “Wow, Sugar! What did you infuse these leaves with?” Blue asks, starry-eyed. It’s good to see him making those again.

    “The magic of KINDNESS, of course! I feel that we could all stand to be a bit more amenable! Though, the monsters who need it most don’t appear to be partaking.” He narrows his sockets at Stretch and Sans, who are smoking out by the smaller balcony.

    “Papy’s been like that ever since he and Sans started work in the lab again… He never listens to me anymore, but I’m starting to wonder if he ever really did,” Blue laments.

    “Woah, Blue, are you okay?” You ask, but Blue moves to a corner couch, and drinks his tea alone.

    “You should probably give him some space,” Papyrus laments. You nod and go visit Mutt.

    “What’s gotten into your brother? Why’s he want me in his house if he thinks I tried to kill you?”

    “Eh, I dunno. Edge asked me to take you in, but Black was out last night, so I don’t have a clue if he conspired with anyone. I was… kind of ‘out’ myself.”

    You look him up and down.

    “Walk with me.”

    He shrugs and follows you out of the apartment.

    “How are we gonna approach this if I move in with you?”

    Mutt smirks. “This what? Humping in my room for ten minutes? Not talk about it. Pretty simple thing to do.”

    “What about the dancing?”

    “Stop acting like this. I know you’re smarter than that, babysitter. I did what I had to do to keep the Guard from chasing you across town. If you’ve got a problem with me, I’ll give you space, but you don’t really have a better place to go. I already apologized for decking you and throwing you in a box. There’s nothin’ else to discuss, so quit blowing things out of proportion.”

    “Hey, I’m not the one who keeps sticking his nasal bridge into my damn business. Looking out for me from the background. You didn’t have to come with those guys to pick me up; you don’t even fucking like them. If you don’t stop talking down to me---”

    “You’ll _what_?”

    “Look, if you’re going to be a dick the entire time we live together, at least stop pretending to be any better than Sans and Stretch would be. You’re all the fucking same, I swear.” You push him away from you and march back into the house.

    You run over your demands in your head one more time, and drink more tea to cool yourself down. It’s cold now, but that might be a good thing. The table has mostly reconvened, with Blue still in a corner and Stretch by the balcony. Mutt follows in after you, dog treat in his mouth.

    You rinse the mug in the dishwasher and notice there’s a small jar of used tea bags. Sugar must want to compost them, so you place yours in the jar as well. Your seat feels kind of warm from when you left it.

    “I’d like to visit Axe and Sugar on the weekends I’m not working for Sparkby and work there as a farmhand. I’m not letting anyone put a curfew on my time. I’ll be putting down my own money for rent and food when I can.”

    “That’s entirely unnecessary. My brother and I have more money than we know what to do with.”

    “It’s a matter of pride, Black. You’d understand. I don’t feel right freeloading,” you insist, shaking your head.

    Mutt watches you intently.

    “Assist me around the house. It needs renovations, furniture needs restoring, and I need help with food. That should be more than enough. Frankly, we could use someone to help around the complex, and you seem rather capable.”

    You’re somewhat surprised by Black’s offer. Of course, you knew some basic repairs, but you’d need to learn more. Muffet’s family can probably help.

    “Y… yeah, I can manage that.”

    Black nods. “Good. I like someone who takes initiative.”

    “As per the law, I’m obligated to assist you in learning to harness magic,” Edge adds. “If anyone else would like to assist me, you are welcome, as long as you do so in a civil and respectful manner to the human.” He glares pointedly at Sans and Stretch. Sans holds his stare, but Stretch looks away. Is he shifting in his seat?

    You sigh and stand up to stretch your limbs. “Well, that’s that. Thanks for being… not control freaks. Should I move my stuff tomorrow or…”

    “Muffet has already delivered your things to our building. I’m sorry if that was too forward of me,” Edge apologizes.

    “Nah, it makes sense here,” you shrug. He still looks uncharacteristically small,

hunched, even. You don’t like it. It turns your stomach seeing the same monster gloating by your bed so down. You reach your hand out to his.

    “Hey. You did your best. You’re the Great and Terrible Edge, so get the hell up here.” He blushes and turns his head further, his hand pushing yours away.

    “I don’t deserve the praise,” he mutters, barely above a whisper. “The meeting is adjourned, I believe. Rest well, gentlemen. Human.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buy me a coffee! dignisssinbar.ko-fi.com  
> If you're 18+, check out my Tumblr! dignis-sin-bar.tumblr.com


	12. LOVE On the Open Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All aboard the pain train!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings for death, murder, possible PTSD and disassociation.

Chapter 12

The penthouse empties quickly; no one seems in the mood to converse any longer. Sans leaves quickly. Stretch gives you a short nod and steps out behind him. 

“I’m sorry for my brother’s behavior, human. I’m… I’m not sure what to do with him. He’s been wound up like this since our cousins started arriving on the Surface. I’ve been hoping it would get better on its own, but it only seems to worsen with time.”

“Don’t worry about it, Papyrus. I don’t think anyone else knows what to do either,” you sigh. Mutt shrugs. 

“Don’t need to do anythin’ about it except not listen to him.”

“I’m not so sure about that, brother. His attempts at controlling both the human’s and our lives have been grating on my nerves more than ever. Something has to be done, as I would like to conserve my budding alliance with the creampuff here,” Black quips, looking at his phalanges cooly.

“Honestly, my first concern is Blue. Something’s going on with him, and he doesn’t wanna let on. I saw him almost cry during the meeting, and he’s not reaching out to anybody,” you muse. Mutt grumbles something and tugs on the back of your shirt.

“I’m tired. M’lord?”

“Yes, I do believe it’s time for us to get going. I require my beauty rest, however much the Edgelord says he does not. A good rest of the evening to you, Papyrus.”

“Uh, Black, can I say goodbye to Axe and Sugar?” You ask.

“I believe the weirdos have already vacated the premises. Though I suppose I owe them a debt of gratitude, considering they assisted in opening up my perspective on this delicate matter. I may pay them a visit later.”

“ _ M’lord. _ ”

“Yes, yes, Mutt, we’re going.” Black squints at his brother. “You’re not usually so insistent. We’ll be speaking later.”

“Hm.”

Mutt grabs both of your hands, and you shortcut back into Black’s apartment.

“Are you feeling well, human? Most people don’t handle teleportation magic very well,” Black snickers.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’ve done it enough times by now,” you smile back. Black’s eyesockets widen. 

“Interesting! Well, I have made some arrangements with the scientist, and he somewhat rearranged the spatial properties of the apartment. All in all, my kitchen is fractionally smaller, and you have a room of your own. I hope that it proves sufficient. Now come along! There’s no time for dilly-dallying!” He grabs your hand and gently tugs you to a new door next to what you remember to be Mutt’s room. His door hinges seem to be recently replaced. There’s a sign on your door:

**CAUTION: LIVE HUMAN SPECIMEN**

**KNOCK FIRST AND APPROACH WITH CAUTION**

You smirk. “Where’d you get that?”

Black’s scarf seems to puff up with pride. 

“It was my idea, but the scientist seemed amenable to it. I believe it’s the start of an intriguing and useful allyship!”

“Definitely my kind of humor,” you chuckle. “Well, goodnight guys. And thanks for taking me in. Other than Axe and Crooks, I didn’t think anyone would actually want me in their house.”

“Don’t be absurd, human. I’ve had my eyes on you ever since you matched me so nicely in that FIGHT. Well, as well as an amateur could, anyways.” Mutt huffs a laugh in the background. 

“Well, you’d best get to sleep now, human. Your things are in the places Muffet said they were in your old room, approximately.”

“Wait, how does Muffet-- did you rummage--- you know what? It’s not important. Goodnight, Black. Mutt.”

“Uh huh.”

 

Axe can barely contain his excitement on the way into the truck. 

“I’m glad things went a bit better for the human this time!” Sugar chirps, and Axe nods. He’s grinning from ear to ear, if he had any to spare. 

“Is something perturbing you, brother? I get a bit nervous when you smile that wide.”

Axe blinks.  _ Oh. Are those two faces still not distinguishable? I’ll have to practice in the mirror when I get home. I swear I’ll get control of this mug back. Can’t have my magic? Fine. But my body is mine, dammit. _

“Sans? Your eyelight’s… a little large. And I’ve been saying your name for a couple of minutes now. Do you feel that the human was cheated, or something?”

“Nah. Just… what a gal, right?” Axe responds, and lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “H-holy shit. You’re feelin’ what I’m feelin’, right Paps?”

“Um… perhaps not as intensely as you are. I find the human extremely amenable, and she’s very accepting of our circumstances! Um, she’s very strong for her size, and I can tell she has a little LV on her, as well! I’m thrilled she wants to continue to work on our farm!” Sugar glances back at his brother through the mirror. “But I get the feeling she’s more than that to you, brother.”

Axe nods emphatically.

“I’m happy to see you happy, brother, but please try not to come on too strong. I know how quickly you get attached to things, and I wouldn’t want you to send the human packing. If you can show some restraint, I’ll do my best to make things work out in your favor!”

_ All right, Sans. Breathe. You don’t have lungs, but you’ve got this. In, out. In, out. Heh. In. Out. Damn it, I’m distracted again. _

“Brother?”

“Huh?”

Sugar inhales and exhales. “I’m happy for you.”

“Heh. thanks.”

 

Someone’s throwing rocks at your window.

“Wh… hello?”

You open your blinds to find glowing, starry eyelights and a wicked grin staring back at you.

“Uh… Blue?”

Blueberry says something, but you can’t hear it. It looks something like, “open up, human!”. You’re practically naked, laying around in a tank top and stolen boxers, but you’ve already flashed the poor guy, so you pop the window open and reach to help him climb in.

He’s wearing a rainbow bandana and seems to be carrying glow sticks and… something bulky in a smiley-faced messenger bag. There’s a jean jacket hanging off his shoulders covered in patches, and rips in his pants at the knees.

“Hey, human!” He exclaims.

“Shh!” You shush him.

“Oh. Hey, human,” he whispers. He’s a terrible whisperer, but you’ll take it. “Sneak out with me!”

“Wh--what? Why are we sneaking? Do you know what time it is, dude?” You groan and scrub your eyes. 

“Of course I know what time it is. That’s the point of sneaking out, human,” he giggles. “Come on, the night’s young and so are we!”

“I’m not getting on your bike again,” you grumble.

“That’s why I stole your keys while none of the others were looking! I wanna give you a second chance on that little race we started, if you can promise not to hurtle off a cliff again,” Blue smirks.  _ Oh, it’s  _ **_on_ ** _ , Baby Blue. It’s fucking on. _

“How did you get up here, anyway?”

“Not really that hard to climb across a couple of windows, human.”

“Oh. Right. How do you want to get down, though?”

“Blue magic, of course! We’ll be able to descend pretty gracefully to the parking lot, as long as we can keep our SOULs in sync. Do you think you can do that?”

“Wh- I don’t even know what that means,” you sigh. “Normally I’m all for jumping the gun, but you want me to jump the gun about six stories based on magic I don’t know how to do.”

Blue nods. He seems to acknowledge your point. 

“Well, it’s not like you haven’t synched your SOUL to somebody else before… you’ve already kind of done it with Papy back in your apartment.” 

Your eyebrows jump. “Oh. So that’s what that was.”

“Yeah! So just hold out your SOUL, and I’ll hold out mine. And then… we don’t have to touch them, but we kind of have to… listen for each other’s magic?”

You feel a pit in your stomach. 

“Would you like me to go first?” Blue asks, quieter than usual. You gulp and nod.

He gestures his palms to his chest, and a pale, sky blue heart emerges. It’s very white, and a bit smaller than your own SOUL.

“But…”

“But, what human?”

Tears tug at the edges of your eyelids.

“What’s wrong?” He reaches for you, but you back away. 

“My SOUL’s fucking hideous is what’s wrong, and no one should EVER see it!” You spit, and rip your keys out of his hand. Your feet crash across the hardwood floors into your comfiest shoes. You hear what you imagine to be Black spitting out his coffee as your ass bails out the door. Your soles touch your bike, and you know you shouldn’t be driving like this.

The air shifts behind you, and there’s a furry coat tickling the back of your neck.

“Where you headed, human?”

“Get off me, Mutt.”

“No can do. M’lord deserves some peace and quiet at 3 AM, so I’m escorting you to wherever the fuck you’ve decided to run off to instead, or at least stay here until you’re done with your temper tantrum.”

You growl under your breath and start the ignition. “Helmets are in the back compartment. Not moving till you put one on.”

“Guess you’re not going anywhere.”

“Human! Wait!” Blue cries after you.

“Welp, guess that’s my cue to bail,” Mutt sighs and disappears from behind you.

Blue eventually reaches you; you don’t want to make him run across the parking lot, but your body won’t get up to meet him.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just asked to see your SOUL like that. It was overstepping.”

You can’t reply.

“If you don’t want to talk to me anymore, I’ll understand,” Blue’s voice twists with pain.

__ Your lower lip twitches, and you try to open your mouth.

“It--it--it’s not your fault. I don’t hate you. I hate my SOUL. I hate myself. I’m disgusting and no one should look.”

A somber silence flows between you.

“Get off the wheel, Y/N.” You rarely hear Blue sound so stern.

“I can’t. My grip’s too---”

“Tight, I know. Can I use normal blue magic to help you let go?” He finishes your sentence.

“How---”

“No more questions,” he cuts you off.

You nod. “Yeah. Lemme out of this.”

Your SOUL jumps in your chest, but doesn’t leave. You appreciate it. Your fingers uncurl from the bike handles one at a time. 

“Need more, or do you have it?”

“... not enough.”

Your torso shifts off the chair and one leg comes off. You’re free, and your SOUL registers the end of the connection. Blue takes your hand. He looks solemn, honestly like Mutt does, when he doesn’t think anyone’s paying attention.

“Come on. I know you’re not going to sleep after something like that.”

“How?” You croak.

“I have my ways. Get on my bike. I’m driving tonight, human.”

You nod imperceptibly. His stupid little sports bike is really comfortable, and you grumble a little in jealousy.

His jacket feels nice to the touch when you wrap your arms around his waist. Is he… squishy? The warmth feels like… well, whatever Mutt’s pelvis was doing when you were humping him. You shrug. That’s not important to you right now.

The ride is quiet and uneventful. The breeze is cold, but soft somehow, and Blue’s calm is something you could get used to. Eventually you reach an old meatpacking factory, gutted of its equipment. You come in here, from time to time, to watch the stars and admire the art that was slowly taking over the walls.

Blue parks the bike, and a ghost of a smile begins to come back to his face. He pulls his helmet off, and helps you with yours. 

“Help me carry the cans?” He asks.

“The cans?” You blink.

“Yeah. The 2 duffels in the back compartment. They’re kind of heavy, and it’s nice to have help, even if I can do it on my own.”

You stop.

“Wait. Cans of paint? Are you the one who’s been dolling this place up for the last couple of months?”

Blue blushes. 

“Hey, you can’t just not answer that!” Your SOUL leaps.

“It’s not a big deal, human! Now, come on! There’s a lot of ground to cover! Well, wall,” he chuckles. He smiles brightly, and there’s stars in his eyes again. “Do you paint, human?”

You grin a little. “Used to, before I flunked out of college. I haven’t picked up a can or a brush since. Are you sure you want me helping you with this? You’re… kind of amazing.”

“Quit it, human! You’re gonna make me blush!” He beams under the praise. “Here, put this on. It helps with the fumes.” He passes you a plain grey bandana. You take it, and fumble around with the knot. 

“Do you need help?” Blue asks you. You sigh and nod. He ties it, and stops for a moment, staring into your eyes. 

“Do you need something, Blue?” You ask, fearful of the answer. He shakes his head vigorously. 

“It wouldn’t be fair to you. Right now, helping me paint is enough.” He steps towards the building, picks the lock like you do, and opens the door. 

The sight that’s waiting for you is horrible. Everything has been vandalized by the same symbol: a stencil of a simple cat girl with a long, bloody cut under her eye.

“Well, isn’t this a coincidence,” you hear a purr. You roll out of the way as two massive claw attacks rip through the ground behind you.

Blue’s eyelights are out. There’s tears streaming down his face, but he has managed to dodge. 

“Blue! Come on, snap out of it!” You shout, but he doesn’t move.

Four cat girls hop down from a higher loft and encircle you, nail-ridden baseball bats dragging on the floor. You’d normally mobilize, but you can’t leave Blue behind like this. 

“Well, look what the cat dragged in. The glitchy, broken little human who  **took my eyes out.** Stop moving, girls.” Their leader, the one who broke your ankle and beat your face to a pulp, steps forward. Sure enough, her eyes are filmed over, but her nose is twitching. She seems to be smelling her way around. It’s no problem to you. You can burn her fucking whiskers and nose, if you have to. You’re in control this time.

“Who’s your babybones friend? Isn’t he a little young for you?” She growls, getting closer and closer to you. You let her. A massive attack with Blue frozen might injure him, and you refuse to risk it.

“ **Well?!** What’s keeping you, bitch? Scared to hurt your little toy? Need to get him home before midnight?! That’s just precious! He doesn’t seem like the type you’d go for, but from what I’ve heard, you’ll even spread your legs for that disgusting, dust-ridden weakling the Lieutenant of the other Guard keeps around.”

She’s close enough. You bury your fist in her face and blast a barrage of flame afterwards, but she dodges and wipes some dust off her mouth. Your SOUL turns a bright yellow, and she’s sending claw after claw after you. You grab Blue and scramble to your feet, dodging as well as you can, but the ends of her strikes are cutting into your legs.

“Blue, WAKE UP!” You scream,but he’s still not responding. You hurl him into the air as far as you can, and hope he responds enough to land, then lunge toward your foe. She lands one right on your face, and you roar in pain. There’s too much blood in your eyes.

“How’s that feel?” She pins you again, and rips into the skin on your abdomen. You hear the other cats mobilize towards Blue, and struggle to get her off you, but you can’t. If you set her on fire, she’ll probably burn you with her. You catch her hands in yours, but she’s much physically stronger. If you don’t think of something, she’s going to snap both of your wrists.

You’re TRAPped.

Your SOUL pings at the word.

*FIGHT

*MAGIC

*TRAP

There’s a tug outside of your SOUL, and the cat ringleader jumps off of you like you’ve burned her and scrambles back, making distance between the both of you.

“ **Who taught you that,** ” she glowers. “You shouldn’t be able to fucking do that! YOU FILTHY HUMAN BITCH! MAGIC IS  **OURS** ! Leave the little kid alone and go for her, girls!”

The three other cats try to pounce you, but you manage to get up, and feel three other consecutive tugs. You can’t see, but you feel like you know where they are.

*Of course you can. That’s how purple magic works. It doesn’t matter how much they struggle; all they’re going to be able to do is DODGE unless they can get a strike on you, the child from your dreams sighs, like you should already know these things.

Fire courses through your veins into the air around you, and the air is soon laced with magic smoke.  _ What’s happening, kid? I’ve got no clue what the hell I’m doing, and your condescending bullshit isn’t helping me. _

*You’ve trapped them, Y/N. That’s the true NATURE of a SOUL of perseverance. The child cackles a bit.

*Now make them dance. And don’t let up until they’re dust, or you feel them relent. And don’t worry, you can’t hit anyone who’s not in your range.

“B- but I can’t fucking see.”

*It’s goddamn magic, okay? Now hurry up before they land a hit on you!

You activate your magic, but this time, you don’t feel it come from your hands at all. Instead, it flares up in what you can only describe as crisscrossing lines of fire, all over the floor. They MISS a certain area, where you presume Blueberry to be. When you blink enough of the blood away, you confirm your feelings. The cats are leaping and hissing all over the warehouse, and most of your attacks aren’t hitting, but it’s enough that they don’t have time to counter. You hear a gush of magic from the corner. 

Blue’s finally up for the count, and he reaches you in seconds. His eyelights are normal.

“Human, take my hand! We can win faster like this!” He reaches out to you, and you feel the warmth of his bones on your skin. It sends a tingle up your arm, and gravity in the building shifts, but it doesn’t affect you. Instead, it seems to weigh the cats down, making it harder and harder for them to keep dodging. 

Eventually, you feel seven little tugs at your SOUL. 

*They’re asking for MERCY. 

_ Yeah, I can manage that.  _

*You’re not the person I am wondering about.

Blue’s face is stoic and set in a frown. The cats are starting to take damage.

“Blue?” You ask. Your voice wavers. He doesn’t respond.

“Blue!” You yell. But he’s not listening.

You shake his arm, hard, and he jolts to.

“Blue! We need to SPARE them!” You shout.

“We get it, you pair of freaks! We’ll move somewhere else! Just don’t dust us!” The leader yowls.

“....fine,” he sighs. “Get out. All of you,” he commands them, and they run out with their tails between their legs.

 

You reach to touch his chest, and he flinches, but relents.

“What was that?” You whisper.

“What was what?” He tilts his head.

“You weren’t going to SPARE them.”

“Who taught you that word? Wasn’t Black your first fight?” He questions.

“No, don’t redirect me, Blue. And it was Red, thank you. You were going to kill them!” 

“Not really. I was considering it, but I hadn’t decided on it.” He shrugs and pulls a rag and a spray bottle out of his bag. “The paint’s still wet. We might be able to salvage the murals if we hurry. There’s another bottle in the other bag.”

You open the other bag and comply.

It’s not too hard to clean, when you put your back into it. Eventually, everything is saved. Blue doesn’t talk during the process, and neither do you. When you’re done, you sit down and stare at his work in awe, though you can’t push down that sick feeling in your gut.

The skyline on Mt. Ebott. Glowing caverns covered in bioluminescent flowers and crystals. A broken, purple door into near complete darkness. An endless expanse of snow, and a laboratory looming over swirling lava. Bleak, grey buildings stretching into infinity. He’s incredibly talented.

There’s loneliness in every single image.

“Human, there’s still a lot of wall space. Would you like to paint something with me?” He touches your shoulder and you almost jump.

“Y-yeah.” You mull over your words. “Blue… why are they so empty? I feel like I could shout into your paintings and hear my own echo for miles.”

He looks away. 

“Come on, pick out some colors!” He croaks. He’s trying to push energy into his voice that isn’t there.

“Blue, stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“That! You don’t-- um… how do I…. You don’t have to be anything more than you are, in each moment, when you’re with me. If you’re mad, if something hurts, I want to know. So stop wearing that mask of joy. Your paintings were almost ruined and we just got out of a nasty FIGHT.”

“I took you out here for a good time and I am DETERMINED to give it to you!” He protests. 

“Things change! Circumstances change! Sometimes you just have to be sad!” You counter.

“You’re WRONG!” He bellows. 

His voice rings through the meatpacking factory.

His paintings seem to eat it up, until the “wrong” is gone.

Something in your SOUL aches; there’s an uncomfortable pressure there, unlike anything you’ve felt.

Well, that’s not quite true. You felt it when Mutt started crumbling before your eyes.

Your hands hover in front of you, and rub Blue’s shoulders. Your SOUL floats out to him, cracks, rips, and all. Its faded mauve glows, with a faint core of sickly green. You feel relief, for some reason, to see the new color there.

Blue’s eyelights aren’t stars; they’re brilliant, almost comet-like.

“Y/N… your SOUL is beautiful! The prettiest and rarest I’ve ever seen… do you know how rare it is for humans to have dual TRAITs?”

“Is that what Red meant by perseverance?” You ask, your voice low and quiet, as if your SOUL will shatter if you’re too loud.

“Oh, that’s not all there is, human! You’ve got kindness in there, buried far within you! It’s almost like your perseverance is shielding it. Can I CHECK it?”

You nod, and feel watched.

He steps close, almost close enough to kiss you. The heat rises to your face.

“You have LOVE.”

“Wh-- what? What does that mean?” You put your hands between his ribcage and your chest, but he doesn’t step back.

“Have you ever killed, Y/N?”

“What kind of question is that?! You can see that just by CHECKing me?” You jolt, and your SOUL jumps back into your chest.

“I have to specifically look for LOVE. It’s a stat loosely based on how many people or monsters you’ve killed.”

“Why would you look for that?!” You scream. “I trusted you! I trusted you to look at my SOUL!”

Blue shakes his head and chuckles. “No, I could find that out even if your SOUL was in your chest. That’s not the point I’m trying to make…”

“Well, you better make it quick, or I’m gonna find some way to get home.”

“I’ve killed people!” He blurts. “I don’t have anyone to talk to about it. I’m honestly… kind of relieved that you have, too.” He leans back on one of his murals and laughs weakly. “Isn’t that sick?”

You don’t know how to respond.

“... you have?”

“Well, I’ve killed one person. Many times.”

“How is that possible?” You stutter. “You can’t kill someone more than once. That’s the definition of death.”

“Not quite. Do you know how much more raw power is in a human SOUL over a monster one? That some of your SOULs are so powerful, they can turn back time?” The words break out of him like a dam. His throat is raw while he talks, and he starts to pace. 

“They can’t do it anymore, but in the Underground, humans that fell could. And only some monsters could even notice that they were reliving the same days, over and over. Sometimes, the humans were cruel.”

Horror freezes you in place. Blue keeps pacing.

“Sometimes, the humans killed everyone in the Underground except me. Left me there for days, weeks, months, before turning time back. Sometimes they spared everyone except my brother. He knows. But he doesn’t know that I do. There wasn’t a damn thing I could do! Nothing except keep forcing happiness from my voice!” He falls to his knees, and a single, empty wail escapes him.

“Nothing except cherish each day that something awful didn’t happen to us. Even when everyone else was dead,” Blue keens. “When time turned back, everyone’s LOVE would turn back to 1 too. But I remember what it feels like to kill.”

He tries to breathe, but his breath keeps catching. You come unglued from the ground, and tear across the floor for him. 

“I---I’m strong enough to join Tale Nation’s Royal Guard now… I never let anyone see me FIGHT, though… You know, when we were trapped, that’s all I wanted, human. To send the seventh human to their death and break the barrier. But I didn’t know what it meant to kill then. The human was nice sometimes. All I could get myself to do was stop them from leaving my home and keep them in a shed. Once I learned how to separate myself from death enough times, I couldn’t go back.”

You wrap your arms around him tightly. He keeps talking.

“I don’t join the Guard because---I don’t trust my memory. Sometimes I forget that anyone I kill now, won’t come back. I forgot back there. And I still don’t feel bad about it!” He sobs, and another chortle breaks up his cries. “I don’t care, human… I’m never going to be the same, and I can’t tell anyone, or I’ll break my brother’s heart.”

You’re crying now, too, and your SOUL is out of your chest.

A surge of paralyzing, foreign emotions shake you.

Your SOULs are touching.

“I--I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for that to--”

You stop Blue.

“Let me help you carry a little bit of that. Please.”

You end up setting up a fire pit and spending the night at the factory. Blue pulls a pocket blanket from the inside of his jacket and wraps you both tightly.

 

Two red-green eyes watch from the darkness.

“LV AND magic. What a catch, Paps. I’m really going to savor this.”

Something slinks away into the darkness, as undetectable as a dust particle in the musty air.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like suffering? Buy me a coffee!  
> ko-fi.com/dignissinbar  
> Or visit my Tumblr (18+)- dignis-sin-bar.tumblr.com


	13. Dust in Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Read makes a new friend.  
> Retcon: the second pair of eyelights in the darkness are now YELLOW

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings include: loss of agency/control, nightmares/night terrors. That should be all of it for now. I'm sorry for having been gone for so long. My biochemistry has been particularly vindictive lately. I also may no longer have a beta-reader, so that's a thing. Not taking any offers at the moment.

You’re a child again, but the body doesn’t feel right. There’s a different shirt on your body. Your movements are staggered and painful.

    A knife handle is sticking out of your back pocket, and there’s a locket tugging at your neck.

    “C..can you hear me?” You ask your friend.

    *I can, but they can’t. They can only hear me, and it’s not like they ever listen.

    “Who are they? Who even are you? Why do I keep having your dreams?”

    *You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. They wouldn’t believe me either.

    “Well, I’m not them.”

    *That’s debatable at the moment.

    The child judders forward, seemingly without end. You can feel how hungry they are, a low buzz of the chaos ringing in their mind. They’re hurt, their ankle twisted horribly backwards, but they’re still walking. There’s a blood-red glow in their eyes.

    “What’s wrong with them?” You say, your words empty and fearful.

    *LV. EXP. The counters of death; they make a SOUL stronger, but they also destabilize the very foundations of who they are. Once a human or monster gains enough Execution Points, or EXP, their LOVE, LV, or Level of Violence will rise. The LV cap is 20. You can’t go further. But by then, a SOUL is more rife with the desire to earn more LV than ever. It’s kind of like a wendigo situation; a SOUL will keep eating and eating, but never truly be satisfied.

    “...that’s horrible.” The child’s foot pain is reaching you now, too. It hurts so much you want to vomit, but the child isn’t even fazed.

    All you can see around you are desolate, empty, grey buildings, and copious amounts of dust.

    “Are we Underground?” You croak.

    *Yes. And that… is the seventh human on LV 19. I, of course, had to tag along. Strong SOULs tend to… attach disembodied ones like mine. It’s like having a guardian angel, or companion. Of course, whether they choose to listen to you is a whole other matter.

    Your blood freezes. _The seventh human… Frisk._

    **That was the child you were going to babysit. You were going to let this into your home.**

    *That’s right. They aren’t always like this… but this is one of those times. What did it matter to them? They could always take it back, until I chose to intervene on a good end to this and take away their power to RESET the underground.

    You’re too disgusted to ask any follow-up questions. Some loose bone shards slide out of the child’s leg and fall to the ground. They continue, stepping vindictively on some stray golden petals. Your guardian winces behind you.

“I---I need to wake up. I can’t look at this,” you gag.

*Sorry. You’ve never been able to wake up from nightmares before, so I can’t really wake you up. I won’t leave you, though. Don’t worry, this isn’t even the worst part.

“How could this---- who am I kidding.” You remember the poker lounge, the bolted doors, the smoke and embers forcing themselves down your throat as you shivered in terror. It could _always_ get worse.

While you were distracted, the child’s made it to the end of a hall.

There’s two leering, mismatched eyelights waiting at the end.

“So you’ve been busy…. Don’t worry, kiddo. Me too. Me too….” the figure chuckles, but his laugh quickly goes out of control. Once he steps into the light, you recognize him:

It’s Sans.

    “Wh--what’s happening?” You whimper, tears building up in your eyes.

    *That’s not supposed to happen! You’re not supposed to be seeing that--- **I should have no way of showing it to you!** , your guardian panics.

*Something’s wrong---I----I’m going to try to wake you up! Y/N! Y/N!

Your friend’s voice feels further and further away.

“H--help me! Please, oh fuck, I can’t move away, I---I---”

The child keeps walking forward.

Red and green eyelights stare back.

Then you see them: a secondary pair of eyelights, dim yellow, in the background. They look incredibly sad. You FIGHT, you push harder than you ever have, to move this creature’s feet where **you** want to go.

The child’s eyes widen. They trip over their broken leg. Sans doesn’t seem to be moving. Time itself seems to have stopped, except the child, you, and the pleading eyes of the thing behind Sans.

 _-I don’t know how you’re doing that, but could you please stop, human? You’re greatly distressing my brother,-_ the sad eyes plead. It sounds like Papyrus, but the voice is hollow, dry.

“If I stop, will you set me free?” You beg back. The child is on its hands and knee.

_-I’m sorry, but my brother was never very good at waking up from his nightmares…-_

Anger spikes through your own SOUL. No one is coming. You have to wake both you and… Sans?, on your own.

“Hey!” The child’s voice is hoarse and cracked from what you assume to be disuse.

Sans finally moves. The child is impaled by a wall of bones. You’re back at the beginning of the hall.

“Bonehead! Wake up! It’s a fucking dream!” You scream through the child’s throat. The child is ripped apart by a massive shower of bone shards.

“WAKE! UP!”

A maw in the darkness opens, releasing a blast of magic that disintegrates the child piece by piece.

“SANS! YOU LAZYBONED PIECE OF SHIT, **WAKE UP!** ”

Your eyes almost tear themselves awake, your clothes sticking to you with sweat.

The red and green eyelights are inches from your face.

“S….Sans?”

He chortles once.

“Lucky guess,” he responds, voice flat.

You’re too terrified to move. That feeling that your friend calls maximum LV, that stomach-turning horror from the child that made your saliva catch in your throat… this Sans gives you the same feelings. You don’t even have to CHECK to know.

“----I----I---I think----”

You can hear Blue breathing next to you. You can’t panic. At least one of you has to make it home. Damn it, you need to say something. Anything.

“I think Papy wants to talk to you-----” You manage to croak before your throat closes on you, and you cough up a little spit.

“Good try.” The laser that disintegrated the child in your dream is staring down at you.

There’s no time to attack, no time to wake Blue without both of you dying. So you do the only thing you can think to do here.

You hold up your hands shakily to HEAL.

“What are you doing, buddy? Think I’m gonna spare you, because you’re throwing me a bone?”

You nod. When did you start crying?

“You’ve got a little LV of your own there, human. If someone offered to heal you when you’re about to kill ‘em, would you really hesitate?”

You nod again.

**“L i a r.”**

A gust of wind dislodges itself at your back, and you’re in the VOID, practically freefalling into the nothingness.

“Gimme your hand and I’ll grab Blueberry!” Someone shouts. Mutt?....

You feel your bed under your thighs and choke back a low, long sob.

The familiar smell of barbecue and cigarettes envelops you, and you wrap your arms around the source.

“Bl--Blue?” You manage between wheezing.

“Sh, he’s right there. Here, see? That’s his jacket and his skull there,” Mutt takes your hand and rubs it over your friend.

“He’s safe?”

“Yeah, he’s safe, I’m safe, you’re safe. Everything’s okay, duchess.” Mutt holds you tighter, and reclines onto the bed next to Blue. You cry yourself into a nap.

 

RUFF RIDER: hey asshole it’s important

RUFF RIDER: so try not to leave me on Read for a week again

DON’T JUDGE ME: What’s up

RUFF RIDER: Blue Balls over here and y/n decided to go on a cute little camping trip

RUFF RIDER: figured they’d be fine and if gangs showed up they’d manage it on their own

RUFF RIDER: i show up the next morning to pick their asses up and mr. deadly christmas lights is about to tear our little charge here a new one

DON’T JUDGE ME: Where are you now.

RUFF RIDER: don’t worry we’re safe home

DON’T JUDGE ME: Fuck, fuck, fuck, this isn’t good

RUFF RIDER: congrats captain obvious you’ve cracked the case

DON’T JUDGE ME: How’s she doing.

RUFF RIDER: sleeping, doesn’t seem to be having any nightmares

RUFF RIDER: want me in the lab or something

DON’T JUDGE ME: Penthouse. Don’t bring anyone. Don’t want the whole building to panic. We need a plan.

 

    You wake up from another nightmare, though this time, no one else seems to be influencing it. Blue is still asleep. Magic is coursing through your veins, ready to burst.

    There’s a note on the fridge detailing Black’s work schedule; he doesn’t seem to be home, though he will be soon.

    Maybe letting a little of it out will help. You open your palm to make a flame, but it flares to the roof and singes the paint.

    “Ah, fuck!” You curse, and grab a washcloth to scrub the ash out of the ceiling. The stain is mostly gone; your magic, though, is still going haywire. Your pulse stutters and your hands shake from the effort of containing your power.

    “Wanna help me out here?” You ask and hope your guardian is there.

    *Magic can be expelled in a variety of ways. For you, it’s probably going to be a FIGHT.

   

    Edge tackles the stress of the past couple of days in one of the only ways he knows how: washing a bunch of dishes. They’re crusted over with grime, mostly because he made the mistake of asking Red to do it. No matter, though: he relishes the challenge, despite the irritating reason.

    His brother is snoring peacefully on the couch. Occasionally, Edge checks to make sure he’s having a good dream. Something to do with a nice, big rack. Is he regretting not washing the dish--- no, he’s not. Of fucking course he’s not talking about a dish rack. Edge is almost done with his last dish until his SOUL jolts in his chest.

    There’s an absurd level of magic energy down the hall. And it’s moving closer. It’s the human’s. Is she still angry? Does she want revenge? Her magic has no reason to be that agitated.

    He sighs, finishes washing the dish, and looks back once more at his brother. Edge leans down, kisses Red’s skull, and opens the door.

   

    “I know why you’re here,” Edge opens the door before you can even knock. There’s exhaustion and melancholy all over his face.

    “You do?.... Are you okay, Edge?”

    “I’m fine. This is to be expected. Come along to the balcony. I don’t want to do this in front of my brother.” He steps around you and walks by your side.

    “Do what? I just need to spar with somebody. I---I can’t hold this magic in anymore, and I know you’d be amazing.”

    Edge stops in his tracks.

    “Just… spar?”

    “Yeah. What did you think I wanted?”

    Edge shakes his head. “Nothing. Lead the way.”

    You keep walking with him; he slowly relaxes as you reach the end of the hall.

    “Are you sure that you wish to spar with me, human? I tend to…. Lose myself in battle.”

    “You and Black are the only ones I would trust to be serious with me.”

    Edge wrinkles his nose. “Ah, so myself and the one that almost killed you. What a flattering comparison.”

    “I agreed to that FIGHT. And I’m requesting this one,” you insist. “Please. I need this.”

    He smiles a little bit, before gaining his confidence and opening the door.

    You run out, excited and nervous at once. Your magic sings in your veins, happy to finally receive some attention.

    Edge holds out his right hand.

    “Draw,” He commands you.

    “Draw what? All I have is fire. Are you going to shoot me or something?”

    Edge sighs. “I can see I have my work cut out for me.”

    You growl in frustration. “I don’t want to be tutored right now, Edge! I need to get this magic out of my body.”

    “YOU DON’T WANT MY ASSISTANCE? FINE! SEE HOW MUCH MAGIC YOU CAN GET OUT IF I CAN DEFEAT YOU IN UNDER TEN SECONDS.”

    You conjure up your fire, but you’re pinned beneath him before it even leaves your hand. Your heart stutters in awe. He didn’t even shortcut; he’s just that fast, and he’s leering down at you with focus in his eyes.

    “WHAT DID I TELL YOU?” He grumbles. “WITHOUT MY ASSISTANCE, YOU’RE HARDLY EVEN A CONTEST. THE BRAT COULD HAVE EASILY DISPATCHED OF YOU AS WELL. IT WAS HIS EMOTIONAL DISTRESS, NOT YOUR SKILL, THAT SAVED YOUR LIFE.” He’s not shouting, but his voice has that stern quality from when you first met him.

    You respond, “Yes, Sir!” without even thinking.

    “DO YOU INTEND ON LISTENING TO ME, OR IS THIS GOING TO BE THREE HOURS OF ME PINNING YOU TO THE GROUND WHILE YOU PATHETICALLY ATTEMPT TO MAKE SOME EMBERS WITH YOUR HANDS?”

    “Teach me, please.” After your encounter with the Sans and the catfight, you know you need to learn more. His tone has settled your rambunctious SOUL for the moment.

    A genuine smile crosses his face, and his eyelights brighten, but he settles himself and focuses. He offers you his hand and helps you up.

    “Underfell was…. Not a kind or fair teacher to me. I may push you harder than what Blue or the creampuff would approve of. Know that I’m not doing it to spite or discourage you.”

    Your heart is stirred by his words. “Of course not,” you respond. “I understand. And I don’t want you to make things easy. My new job is going to be very demanding, and I want my combat form in top shape.” You realize you’re still holding his hand, and let go.

    “Right. Summon your fire. Palms up so I can see it.”

    It takes a moment for it to come under control, but you manage it. It’s bright violet, or pink, and the temperature feels normal.

    “There’s your first problem. You feel the need to wait for your magic to charge up.”

    You raise your eyebrows. “So your magic doesn’t do that?”

He shakes his head. “It’s a common misconception from the softer universes that magic has some kind of charging time. That’s bullshit. Your magic is a part of you. Does your heart have to charge up to start beating each morning?”

    “So how will I know when it’s ready?”

    Edge, instead of answering, throws a left hook right at your face. You dodge under it without a second thought. His face brightens.

    “Like that! You dodged that well. Your magic is just like that. The charging time you perceive is nothing but a construct within you. Your hesitation is holding you back. Of course, charging head first won’t make you invincible either. Just flow with the FIGHT, and your magic will lend itself to your maximum ability in the moment. Remember. Your magic and your body are one. It may have something to do with why you managed to burn yourself when your powers awakened. You’re still treating it like an alien energy; you’re scared of it.”

    “How do I stop being scared of my magic?”

    Edge pauses, and sighs.

    “Once there was a little babybones who was more scared of his magic and didn't pay attention to his enemies. His eyesocket was ripped open in battle, and he never forgot where fear belonged again. Summon your fears, and place them at the forefront. Your magic will be your best friend in comparison.”

    The green and red eyelights flash in your mind.

    “Good. There should be nothing on your mind during a FIGHT, even a spar, but survival. Whether you win or lose, even whether you kill your opponent, it’s all unnecessary pressure. Mental drivel. What happens is the best you can do, and no more. Now draw. What’s the one weapon that represents who you are? The only thing you can trust no matter what?”

    You gulp. “Trust isn’t something that I do with ease.”

    “Then your weapon will be all the stronger when you do.”

    Is he trying to encourage you?

    “It’s not your fault, Edge. I just---”

    “Stand to my side, and I will show you my weapon.”

    You obey. He opens his right hand, and a long saber materializes in his palm. The pommel has an odd seal on it, but it’s otherwise plainer than you expected. There’s some fur at the very end of the handle. It looks familiar to the fur lining Red’s jacket. It glows a deep crimson in his hand.

    “This weapon is everything I hold dear in battle. My family, my brother, my position in the Royal Guard. No mundane weapon I own will ever feel the way this does in my hand.”

    He looks down at you.

    “Do you understand, human?”

    You nod.

    “Now try to make your own.”

    You take a deep breath, but all that you can think about is those green and red eyelights, that warped smile chuckling at your efforts.

    Your magic makes the ghost of a sword, then fades out.

    “You’re not focusing. What’s on your mind?” He asks you, concerned.

    “....Blue and I went out last night. I’m sorry. He needed someone to help him fix some paintings he was doing. We got attacked by the cat gang and did fine, but when I woke up, there was a Sans right above me, threatening to kill me. He had red and green eyelights and----” Your hand shakes so much that you put it down.

    “I felt like I was going to die. I was so scared----”

    “You’ve never been truly scared of a foe, human. Even when your body was mangled and you were outside of your territory, you stood head to head with me.” Edge “sheathes” his saber; he motions to put it away, and it disappears.

    “I can forgive your leaving the premises, this time. But there is something you are not telling me.” He pulls up two chairs with blue magic and motions for you to sit. You do.

    “Did you have an imaginary friend as a kid?” You ask him.

    “For a time. Though, in retrospect, that may have been a fragment of this… Gaster that supposedly existed in all our lives at some point. Where is this---- ah. I’ll let you get there at your pace, so long as you don’t dawdle.”

    You nod in thanks.

    “I have one. Except… it’s a real person, too. A child.”

    Edge jolts and draws his weapon. It’s pointed straight at your throat.

    “A _child_?”

    The feeling of being incinerated passes through you. You freeze.

    “Human. Say something. Or I won’t hesitate,” Edge demands. His saber shakes in his hand. His eyelights are out.

    You struggle for air, until your constricted lungs finally cooperate. You gasp.

    “A child. Yellow and green striped shirt. They talk to a goat child sometimes. I dream that I’m them. They’re with me practically all the time, even when I’m awake. They tell me important stuff, like LV.”

    “Don’t speak to them anymore.”

    “But---”

    **“Don’t.”**

“They saved my life, Edge! They tell me important things. They’re not hurting anyone, please!” You protest and shove his saber aside.

    “.... do you know their name?”

    You try to ask your friend their name, but they’re silent.

    “No matter. I believe I do. Your friend’s name is Chara, and they’re responsible for countless massacres in the Underground. As for your attacker, the Guard lost his trail about a year ago. I’ll need you to tell me everything. Keep your ‘friend’ out of conversation for now; some of the others won’t hesitate to end you.”

 

    Mutt and Sans are in the penthouse in seconds.

    “What happened. Beginning to end. Don’t leave shit out,” Sans demands. “I know we tend to bend the truth around the others, but I need as much as you’ve got here.”

    Mutt nods.

    “The human’s sleeping fine until Bluedingus wakes her up by crawling from his window to hers. Apparently without any of us noticing. Wants to take her somewhere. They fight about something, and she runs out the building towards her bike, scaring the shit out of my bro. I follow her as an escort, and she refuses to move the bike with me on it. Blue shows up, and I figure she’ll be fine with him, but when they leave, m’lord insists I track them. They pull up to some abandoned spot. Turns out he wants her to help him paint the place some more, but the cat gang’s recently vandalized their shit. They get jumped and manage pretty well, though Blue…. Blue says some disturbing things.”

“Like what.”

“Not relevant right now.”

**“Mutt.”**

“Sans.”

One judge stares at the other.

“Fine,” Sans sighs. “I expect to hear about it later.”

“You won’t. But anyway, they survive into the night, fix the paintings, and pass out on the floor. Then I feel this…. This massive fucking LV move in. My SOUL’s so weak that I guess he doesn’t notice me. Anyway, he watches them for a good while, but he isn’t hurting them, so I don’t make myself known. Just wanna get a glimpse of him, but I only find him asleep. You know. Sleeping the way **we** do. He’s definitely another judge, but his LV is maxed. There’s no Papyrus with him, either. I hear the human whimpering and screaming in her sleep all night, but I don’t wanna show myself and risk waking the fucking demon in the building. I pass out for a bit. I hear movement in the morning and he’s there, about to blast her face off. She says something about Papyrus needing to talk to him, just trying to stall for time. I leap in right before she and Blue die.”

Sans hums.

“Sounds like the creep the Guard lost a while ago. Same methodology. Chasing after mages or high-LV humans and monsters. They should probably know about this.”

“What can they do, Sans? This guy is maxed and probably off his fucking rocker. The last thing we wanna do is send him exactly what he likes to eat.”

Sans nods.

“Chances are the human has already opened her mouth about it. There’s no reason to go after him and get his attention on the building. If we just keep tabs on our pet mage we should be fine; maybe he’ll lose interest and disappear like last time.”

Mutt nods.

“So all we’re doin’ for now is watching? Fine by me. The last thing I want is my bro facing off against that… thing, for as long as I can avoid it.”

Sans pats Mutt’s back. “Glad we agree. Good talk.”

“Don’t touch me. And don’t call her a pet.” Mutt shakes Sans’s hand off and teleports away.

 

    Your nerves are shot, and your magic is acting in kind. Edge and Black are making all sorts of calls in the kitchen, and Mutt’s watching you like a hawk from his smoking chair. The last thing you want is Blue or Papyrus asking you what’s wrong, Sans and Stretch are kind of assholes, and you doubt you’d be allowed to go out and see Axe and Sugar. That leaves Red, Muffet, Sparkby and Gaster.

    You walk down the hallway, through Edge’s house, and into Red’s room. His snoring is rattling the door. Guess that’s off the table, since you don’t want to wake him.

Gaster’s house appears to be empty, and you’re not sure if you want to talk to him after he basically sold you out and allowed you to be chucked into a crate.

Muffet’s apartments are very far away from your new home. You don’t want to navigate that far out, since you don’t know where the red and green-eyed skeleton is. If he’s a Sans, he can teleport, and you don’t want to be far from your guardians when it happens. As much as you hate to admit it, you don’t stand a chance alone.

 

Sparkby’s soaking in a hot oil bath when his phone vibrates.

“Ugh, are you kidding me?” He groans with annoyance and fumbles for it.

UGLY BETTY: Hey when do you want me to come in again? Should be around tomorrow I think but you didn’t give me a time

OLD FLAME: I didn’t even think you were still interested. You’ve hardly shown any initiative.

UGLY BETTY: Things have been busy, too tired to explain. Ask Red or something. How the fuck am I supposed to show initiative when you didn’t give me other instructions

OLD FLAME: You can explain whatever’s going on with you tomorrow, then. I don’t have any other security detail, but I’ll double your pay if you’re still willing to take the job.

UGLY BETTY: Yeah that’ll work

    Sparkby raises a brow. Something must be different, if the human is willing to change her mind. She’s so fucking stubborn about everything.

OLD FLAME: The cat gang’s still going strong in this neighborhood. Not trying to question your skill, but are you sure you can handle them?

UGLY BETTY: We’ve run into each other. They’re not tough if they don’t get the jump on you

    When did she get into a fight with them again? Sparkby sighs. He’ll probably find out tomorrow, and at the moment, he just wants to be alone.

OLD FLAME: Well, just come in tomorrow and we’ll talk about it. I’m busy.

UGLY BETTY: Busy doing what? It’s barely 12. Bar’s not even close to open

OLD FLAME: I’m taking a goddamn bath, if you have to know. Do you have anything _urgent_ to tell me at the moment?

 

    You sigh at your phone.

UGLY BETTY: I guess not unless you count a Sans with mismatched eyelights who kills people being back

    Sparkby almost drops his phone into the oil.

OLD FLAME: CHRISTMAS LIGHTS IS BACK? Yeah, that’s pretty fucking important news, dipshit! Ugh, he used to lurk this place like crazy back when Grillby was the owner. Thanks for waiting forever to tell me.

    You gulp.

UGLY BETTY: He may or may not be… after me. I mean, he’s seen my face, and he tried to kill me once already

    Sparkby growls at his ceiling. What is this human but a walking liability? _Breathe, Sparks. Breathe. The money’s worth the risk. The money’s worth the risk._

OLD FLAME: Okay. I can drive you to and from work. But I still can’t guarantee your safety. Do you still want the job

    He sucks in a breath. As much as he hates it, he’s relying on you to say yes. Now that the creepy Sans is back, word’s gonna go around fast. He’ll be getting less customers than ever. He needs someone watching over the ones he’ll have left. A tough guard will make people feel safe enough to be there.

UGLY BETTY: You’re on. I can’t let this bastard stop me from living my life. See you tomorrow, boss

OLD FLAME: Don’t call me that. I prefer ‘sir’.

UGLY BETTY: Don’t push your goddamn luck

    You put your phone away. Looks like you’re still on for the job. But what the hell are you going to do with the rest of your day? Staying inside and being afraid for your life, as much as you’d enjoy it, isn’t very alluring when the monsters you’re most comfortable around aren’t there. Guess you’re gonna have to step out of your comfort zone.

    Part of you really wants to just pass the fuck out with Red, but you’re honestly scared to sleep again.

    “What do you think I should do, Chara?”

    *.....

    *I really wish he hadn’t told you that name. I hate it.

    “Sorry…. But calling you my guardian angel or invisible friend is cumbersome.”

    *Please don’t call me an angel either. I guess Chara’s going to have to work.

    “Well, what should I do with my day?”

    *Sorry, I have no idea. Maybe try talking to some of the others.

    “But… I really don’t want to talk to Papyrus or Blue right now. Blue just makes me think of this morning, and Paps is too cheery.”

    *Come on, snap out of it, Y/N. Papyrus has stuck his spine out for you more than almost anyone here. Go talk to him. He deserves better,* Chara scolds you.

    You gulp and knock on the door to his house, but a hand wraps around your wrist before you can pull it away.

    “Walk with me, or I break all the bones in your pretty little hand.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buy me a coffee, PLEASE: ko-fi.com/dignissinbar  
> Follow me on Tumblr (18+ only): dignis-sin-bar.tumblr.com  
> Thanks for sticking with me through shitty hiatuses like this one!


	14. I Can't Stein This Arguing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We hear from an old friend whose house is as empty as his hands, and Reader seeks to remedy the former.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long to upload. Life's been hell since my last chapter update; I'm not really interested in talking about it. Just know that things should be somewhat regular again.

_Your tripes freeze. You feel around for magic, but can’t find anything. You’re back in the alley on 34th._ _You’re trying to warn Smiths that the rival boss got spotted a couple of blocks down. The chipping paint on the metal handle scrapes your hand._

_“That’s riiiight. Let go. Take a step back.”_

_You can’t. You’re not going to let it happen this time. You pull the doorknob back and slam it into the goon’s stomach and head._

“Agh, fuck! What was that for?!”

    It’s Sans.

    What just happened?

    “Didn’t mean to. Was an accident.” you mutter, confused and disoriented. Your feet start walking away on their own, but blue magic locks your body in place.

    “You can’t just walk away from that without a goddamn explanation!” he growls, heaving on the floor.

    “I don’t know, okay? I wasn’t here! I was some---- you know what? It’s really fucking convenient for you to start asking me questions now that you’re in pain, and I’m sorry for hurting you, but you don’t deserve an answer.”

    “The hell I do! I was trying to get into my own house and I got the door slammed into my fucking stomach!”

    “I told you. I wasn’t here. I was somewhere else! I can’t explain what I don’t understand!”

    Sans climbs to his feet and stares at you with skepticism.

    “.... Where were you?”

    Your nose twitches in anger. “Oh, so now you wanna know instead of fucking yelling at me. I’m just here to see your brother, not to talk to your ass.”

    His left eyelight starts glowing, and his face returns to that flat, emotionless smile. “Yeah, well, what if I don’t want you to?”

    Your flames come to life. “That’s not your decision. Papyrus gets to choose if _he_ wants to see me.”

    Sans grabs hold of your soul tighter. Your TRAP magic grabs for his, but it shifts just out of reach.

    *You MISSed.

    _You think, Chara?_ You growl.

    *You can’t win here, so just back down.

    _Why not?! I can handle myself fine in a fight!_

*You can beat him as many times as you want. You could kill him and he wouldn’t change his mind, so use your time somewhere else, your angel advises.

    The door opens. An exhausted Papyrus in a full suit rubs his eyes.

    “Why are you shouting at her brother?” He sighs.

“She slammed our door into me for no reason! And now she thinks she doesn’t owe me an apology!” Sans looks up at him like a petulant child.

“That’s a lie! I already apologized to you! What I don’t owe you is an in-depth

explanation, especially if I don’t have one to begin with!”

“STOP YELLING!”

You and Sans both turn to his brother.

    “I’m trying to tutor someone for the bar, and you’re being extremely disruptive, the both of you. Human, I’m flattered you want to see me, but now is not the time to talk. Sans, we **will** be having a talk, tonight.” Papyrus pats your head and closes the door behind him.

“So, now what, Sans? You met your daily asshole quota for the day?”

He ignores your dig.

“I’ve got work to do in the lab. I was stopping in to get a snack before you attacked me. If I were you, kid, I’d talk a little sweeter to the guy who’s keeping you here. You can be as ‘badass’ a mage as you want, but if I decide I don’t want you here anymore… you know who’s waiting for you outside.” He chuckles darkly.

Is… he implying what you think he is?

**“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”** You growl. Your voice cracks.

“Oh, so now that it’s convenient, you want an explanation,” Sans smirks, looking right through you.

You sigh and let go. He relents as well, but not before tossing you a couple of feet backwards.

“Don’t come around my apartment again. You’re lucky I let you stay at this property in the first place.”

“And where would she go, exactly, if you attempted to kick her out of a building that we, may I remind you, _co-own_?”

Edge steps out of his apartment in full uniform. It’s been a while since you’ve seen him wearing it, considering how early he leaves for work in the morning when he’s on duty. It seems like he’s working nights, though.

“Oh, hey Edge.”  Sans said, keeping his eyes locked onto yours. “Did Paps forget to teach you when you’re not a part of a conversation?”

Edge chuckles, looking through him. “Actually, since Y/N is _my_ charge, I believe I am. I will not allow you to intimidate her in her own home. Considering you were the one who encouraged me to be so Draconian in her punishment in the first place, you bear some responsibility in assuring her well-being now.”

Edge stepped forward and put his hand on your shoulder. “But of course, you only ‘take responsibility’ when it’s to further your own ends. When the promises you make are the easiest route to take.”

Sans’s eyelights go black. **“Shut up, Edge.”**

    “No, thank you, Sans. Did your brother not teach you how to take constructive criticism?”

    Sans closes the door behind him with that frozen smile on his face, staring at you with those empty eyes.

    Edge pinches his nasal ridge and inhales.

    “You have a meeting with Toriel of Tale Nation and Fafriel of Fell Nation in the evening, and... when did you intend on starting work for that sleazy bastard again?” Edge sighs, dragging a hand down his face.

“Tomorrow night.”

He looks away to conceal his concern.

“Does it have to be so soon?”

You nod. “I know you’re worried, Edge, but I can’t let this Sans keep me indoors. I want to start making money and moving freely again.”

Edge meets your gaze with those cool red eyelights. He wants to say something, but he can’t get it out.

“S---Red won’t be happy about it.”

You sigh. “Red isn’t happy about anything I do.”

He laughs. “I haven’t seen him happier since you arrived, human. Give yourself some credit. If you were still unwelcome in my space, you’d be dead.”

Your cheeks heat up a little bit. “Thank you, Edge. Be safe on your patrol.”

His face shifts into a solemn expression. “There’s no such thing as a safe Royal Guard patrol. Don’t let the amateur guardsmen dropouts like Papyrus and Blue fool you. Monitoring monster delinquency and anti-monster crime is, and will always be, dangerous work.”

You sigh and absently touch his chest. He flinches and you both jump back.

“Well, good day, human,” he clears his throat and marches away.

You stand there, unsure of what to do next, when the only grey door in the hall creaks open a bit for the first time in days.

“Gaster?” You ask, astonished. He shuts the door immediately.

You feel a little hurt, but you’re not sure why. A little whimper escapes you before you can stop it. Your nose twitches in disgust at yourself.

The door creaks open a little.

“Human? Are you alright?”

You do your best to nod, but after your encounter with Sans, you really aren’t.

“C-come inside, if you’d like. I’m s-sorry for shutting the door like that.” He steps out, looking sheepish, and holds the door open for you. You try to smile, and step inside. He offers you an opaque jar, and you reluctantly put your SOUL inside, hoping he won’t look at it. He seems to have sensed, and respected your wishes, closing the lid without sparing the interior a glance.

The apartment seems to have been somewhat repaired, though it’s still kind of depressing. It’s covered in shades of grey and white, and the furniture is bare, almost medical. A couple of folding chairs, a plastic table. A cot in the corner. It’s completely different from the ballroom and the suit you’d previously associated with him.

“Gaster…. why are you living like this? I was expecting…… more…..”

“More what, human? I’m not really sure what you mean.” He looks like he’s been wearing the same VOID-splattered lab coat for a couple of days.

“Your house looks like the aftermath of an ICU bachelor party.”

He looks around.

“Well, Sans won’t allow me to work in the communal lab, so I’ve had to improvise.”

You shake your head. “Gaster, no. You can’t— your home can’t be your lab. I mean, I worked from home as a babysitter, but my room was mine. Kids didn’t go inside. You need to keep these things separate or you’re gonna make yourself crazy.”

“For the first time in literally an eternity, I am walking on solid ground. The days have a beginning and end. I can eat and sleep without constant information bombardment from thousands of alternative realities. I have never been saner in my life.” he huffs, a little offended.

“But you’re here now, Doctor Nerd, and you need to take better care of yourself.”

“Please, human. Let me take care of you first. I know how damaging Sans’s words can be.”

You look up. “Hey, hold on. Is Sans still being a dick to you? Why didn’t you say something?”

He sighs. “I don’t wish to worsen relations between the two of you. As little as he believes it, I am his older brother. I can handle most of the insults he tosses my way, however… I’d also like to spend some time with Papyrus. I was only able to see him grow up from the corners of existence. I… I never got to be a true brother to him.”

“Hold on a second. Sans is trying to stop you from seeing Papyrus too, isn’t he? I mean, okay, I get it for me, at least. I’m a dangerous human mage and a thorn in his ass. But you’re his brother!”

“Y/N, please. Give Sans some time to cool down and we can discuss this in a couple of days.”

“No. We’re going down there tonight after my meeting.”

“Y/N…”

“Gaster.”

He sighs, and pours coffee from a kettle into a beer stein. “I suppose this is unavoidable. I can’t really live like this, though it is a step up from where I was before.” Steam comes out of his mouth on his exhale, and he slumps into his desk chair.

“Damn right you can’t. Papyrus is your family and you have the right to see him.”

Gaster serves you the same portion. It seems like he’s pretty strapped for home stuff. “How are you so gung-ho about things? You’re either shouting or hitting the town every night. I’d been following your sleep schedule since I arrived here and it left me feeling like garbage.”

“You are technically made of toxic waste.”

He sputters, indignant. “Toxic? I’ll give you that. But waste? You’re lucky you’re my only steady company.”

“You’ve gotta raise your standards beyond ‘doesn’t treat me like shit and prevent me from seeing my family’, G.”

“Very funny, Y/N.”

You look around. The folding chair you’re sitting on seems to be the only one of its kind, Gaster’s office chair looking straight out of the 1970s, fraying pleather and all. There are beer steins, but no beer, filling up the dishwasher, and empty microwaveable meals, but no microwave. He’s been eating them cold.

It’s time to intervene.

You stand up and pull the wastebasket---- a wire wastebasket for food?!---- to his feet.

“Okay. The first problem isn’t Sans or Papyrus. It’s this,” you gesture to the overflowing trash bag. A little piece of what you hope is hamburger slips out from a hole in the bag, right through the wires.

“My trashcan.”

“Your house,” you glare, looking around.

“There’s nothing wrong with it. It’s a perfectly functional abode.”

“You are eating microwave meals raw.”

“I can’t cook them on the stove.”

You flick the stove on. “The stove works fine.”

“I have no dishes.”

“Then it’s not a functional abode! Shit, who can help me with this…. I’d rather not deal with a catastrophe of this caliber alone.”

“What catastrophe, human? I am fine! I am making do.”

“This is not okay! This is…. This is how I ended up living when I quit my last job. I had to relocate, clear out my bank accounts for an apartment a third of where I used to live. Nothing seems to matter, everything can be fixed later, but later never comes. What work are you even actually getting done in here?”

His eyes shift around the room. “Errr…. testing…. VOID samples…. for…. nothing. I haven’t gotten anything done. I’ve stayed up day and night trying to record any knowledge I still remember from infinity. When I’m not doing that… I hole up in here, feeling sorry for myself.”

“Yep. Sounds about right, nerd. Lemme see if I can find a happier and more awake person to help----”

A wicked grin spreads across your face, and you sip your coffee contemplatively. Yes. This is a perfect opportunity.

“Human, I don’t mean to be rude, but the expression you’re making is highly disconcerting.”

You snap a picture of the room.

**SUNSHIT STARTITTY:** papy

**SWEET PAPAYA:** Human, as touched as I am by your need for my company, I am busy at the moment.

**SUNSHIT STARTITTY:** I’m pretty sure the tutoring session would be over by now

**SWEET PAPAYA:** I’m repairing one of Sans’s suits.

**SUNSHIT STARTITTY:** Hold the phone Sans has a suit?

**SWEET PAPAYA:** I am. And yes.

**SUNSHIT STARTITTY:** New question why does Sans have more than one suit?

**SUNSHIT STARTITTY:** He’s kind of gross tbh I don’t see it

**SWEET PAPAYA:** It’s a banana costume. Don’t get too excited.

**SUNSHIT STARTITTY:** Sans has a sense of humor?

**SWEET PAPAYA:** Well, he used to, before the fire nation attacked.

**SUNSHIT STARTITTY:** Go on

**SWEET PAPAYA:** Before something happened with the timeline that landed us all in one space, he used to be quite the comedian.

**SWEET PAPAYA:** Now he just sulks all the time, or stares at things in the lab.

**SUNSHIT STARTITTY:** What is he even doing in there?

**SWEET PAPAYA:** I’m not sure. He just dodges the question when I ask.

**SWEET PAPAYA:** What did you want to talk about? I feel we’ve gone off on a tangent.

**SUNSHIT STARTITTY:** this

**SUNSHIT STARTITTY** sent _Gastersroom.jpg._

**SWEET PAPAYA:** ….

**SWEET PAPAYA:** The banana costume can wait! I will be right there! Let me change into something more comfortable.

“Human, what did you do?” Gaster groans and pinches his nasal ridge.

“You’ll see soon, Doctor Nerd. I hope you’re ready to bond.”

“Bond what? I told you, I haven’t gotten any lab work done. What are you actually trying to--”

The door is sent flying off its hinges, and Papyrus stands proudly in hammer pants, slip-ons, and a neon pink crop top. On any normal living creature, this ensemble would destroy them. But Papyrus wearing it destroys you.

You never thought you’d be attracted to hammer pants.

*Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

_Cram it, Chara,_ you grumble.

    Gaster leaps so far he seems to exit reality for a moment, before returning. He’s heaving and clutching his chest.

    “S---stars, Papyrus! You know how easily I startle…. Oh.”

    Papyrus deflates a little, then perks back up in concern.

    “Wingdings, how long have you been living like this?”

    Gaster shrinks into himself a little. “Since I moved in.”

    “I knew I should’ve fought Sans harder on this…. I’m sorry, Wingdings,” Papyrus lowers his head, rubbing at his face much like Edge does.

    Gaster shakes his head. “That’s not necessary, Papyrus. You’re taking on a lot of work, as usual. I don’t expect you to babysit me.”

    “I…. I don’t want that to be the go-to excuse for when I forget something important,” Papyrus sighs.

    “Hey, well, you’re here now. And that’s what matters. Is that you made the effort to be here right now,” you interject, trying to lighten the mood. The estranged brothers crack a bit of a smile.

    “I propose the first thing we do is make a list of anything that Wingdings may be missing,” Papyrus muses. He pokes around at the minimal furniture, cross-contaminated lab, beer steins, and looks into the bathroom. You follow after him.

    The shower and sink are thoroughly clogged with black goop. The toilet is spotless. Gaster is mortified.

    “Wh-What are you doing in there?! This area of the apartment is off limits!”

    “What’s wrong, Gaster? Scared we’ll find your double dildo?”

    Papyrus is glowing orange from earhole to earhole.

    “..... maybe you should go in first, then, Y/N. Tell me when the coast is clear,” Papyrus turns away. Gaster scrambles to stop you.

    “NonononoNONONO---”

    You cackle and open the door, only to find…

    A massive, nude, yellowing poster of Grillby on a stripper pole.

    *Thanks, Y/N. Something I was aware of in the past but could have gone my eternity without seeing.

    You’re torn between horror and infatuation. You’d never considered the quiet, affirming Grillby to have this kind of secret. It feels like when you discovered your librarian twerking in the breakroom.

    And yet… you can’t deny that Grillby looks fantastic. You’d always sneaked peeks at his chest when his tie was loosened, and flushed a little when he rolled his sleeves up at last call, but you chose not to pursue. You didn’t, and still don’t think you’re worth his time.

    “I hope you’re happy,” Gaster deadpans, startling you out of your train of thought. “You’ve found one of my most humiliating possessions.”

    “You sure you’re all that humiliated? He _is_ in the center of your back wall, after all.”

    “Who is? Should I keep my eyes shut?” Papyrus asks fearfully.

    “Nothing, Papyrus. You’ll get it when you’re older.”

    “You’re only that much older than me because you’ve been stuck outside reality this entire time! That’s cheating!” Papyrus huffs. “I’m going to look! You can’t stop me!”

    “Paps, no!” You both cry, but Papyrus sticks his head in the room anyway.

    “Ah, I’ve been trying to find one of these for ages! At this point, it’s a valuable antique! Though the real thing looks a lot better.”

    _Now it’s your and Gaster’s turn to blush._

“..... did I…. hear this correctly?” Gaster barely manages to get the last couple of words out.

    “You’ve seen Grillby dance?” You ask, fearful of the answer.

    “Why, yes! We all have! He does it at the Lust Nation’s palace gala once a year for charity!”

    “And here… I thought I knew everything,” Gaster stammers.

    “Hey, just means life’s full of surprises! Like there is a Lust Nation! And them having a gala! And Grillby being a stripper! I think it’s time we left the house! IKEA awaits!” You struggle to save the interaction from further pain on anyone’s side.

    “TO GLORY, AND IKEA!” Papyrus cries, rattling the walls a bit.

Gaster winces. “Oh, absolutely not! I despise that place! The deep VOID is easier to navigate!”  

    “Does the VOID have 1 dollar coffee, convenient signs throughout the store and maps in every corner?” You tease him.

    “That’s precisely what enrages me! It has every amenity to make it traversable, but still fails at its mission on a basic level!”

    “Maybe you’re just failing to navigate it, Doc.”

    Gaster angrily shakes his hands. “I refuse to lose to it!”

    “Then let’s go,” you grin, and take his hand. His other main hand touches his chest, and his cheekbones flush a little.

He groans, a tired expression on his face. “Alright. But we need to be in and out of there. The more you linger, the stronger its disorienting influence on your psyche.”

“Okay, nerds. Let’s hit the town.”

“Neither of you is nearly presentable enough to leave the house,” Papyrus says a little haughtily. You want to rebuff him, but he looks so fabulous that you do feel a bit ashamed.

“I don’t have other clothes. Everything here, I have summoned from my original laboratory underground. I am almost entirely out of magic reserves, which I do not intend on utilizing for clothes.”

“Gaster!” You scold him. “You need to say shit like this! I could’ve helped at literally any time!”

“I was simply going to search for another magic source somewhere, and return in a few days,” Gaster mutters.

“But you don’t have to. I’m here for you,” you insist.

“Anyone of us could likely provide magic for you to continue existing here. You just need to reach out when you need help!” Papyrus encourages him. “Now, come along! I should have just the thing for you!”

“Is it in black?” Gaster asks.

“No, but that’s most of my wardrobe. I’ve got you covered.”

“I have no intention of exiting the house in your star-studded lingerie.”

“You saw that?!” you squeak.

“I told you I’d been observing you for a while, along with other mages. As for asking monsters for help, they don’t have the kind of magic that would help me exist for very long.”

“As in, not strong enough?” You press, interested.

“There is no Determination in monster magic,” he replies like you should know what he’s talking about.

“No——“

“MAYBE WE SHOULD MAKE A LIST OF THE THINGS WINGDINGS NEEDS BEFORE WE LEAVE!” Papyrus shouts, voice strained. He coughs a little with the effort afterwards. It startles you hard enough to toss your stein out the window. Gaster’s hands scramble for it, but it disappears into the streets below.

“.... maybe that would be a wise course of action, though I don’t see why it’d be exciting enough to shout about.”

“No reason! I just wanted to get to IKEA quickly! Don’t you?” Papyrus adlibs. A few stray, orange-tinted sweat droplets run down his face.

You squint at him suspiciously.

“I suppose. You take care of the list, Papyrus. I’m gonna see if anyone else wants to come with.”

“Don’t worry! The Brilliant Papyrus is on the job!” He salutes. Gaster flinches.

“I’ll meet you both downstairs,” you smile a little, and head out the door.

 

Papyrus slumps.

“What’s the matter? You seemed frightened when I mentioned… certain unavoidable parts of our reality,” Gaster notes.

“She doesn’t need that right now, Gaster! Not after things have finally settled down a bit for her… she doesn’t need to know what humans can do.”

“Papyrus,” Gaster stands up, chest to chest with his younger brother. “I think I recall witnessing the emptiness, the bitterness you felt when Sans thought he could make those decisions for you. Do you not remember?”

Papyrus’s shoulders droop, and he rests his head against a nearby wall.

“..... maybe _I_ don’t need that right now. To relieve any of the events that happened, now that things are settling down for me.”

“Then don’t be the one to explain things, but don’t go out of your way to hide them. You know better, Papyrus.”

“.... I do. You’re right, Wingdings,” Papyrus concedes.

Gaster nods, adding a couple of notes on what is missing in his apartment.

“Thank you, Wingdings.”

 

You step through the corridors, actively dodging Sans’s house and going for Stretch’s. You press your ear to the door and hear fighting inside, so you keep walking. You can’t handle seeing more conflict in this house, especially involving Blue.

You knock on Edge’s door, and Red sets about undoing the various locks.

“Hey, princess…” He chews at the tag on his necklace and wipes perspiration off his forehead onto his jacket sleeve. There’s already a large stain on that sleeve.

“Hey, Red. Where’s the confidence?”

He gives you a twitchy grin and looks away.

“So you’re goin’ to IKEA to try to make the old guy a house, huh?”

“He’s… well, not that much older than you, from what I understand.”

Red bites down on his dog tag harder. “Yeah… I’m not even sure I understand who he’s supposed to be to me. But since he’s not hurtin’ anyone, I’m pretty okay with him stickin’ around.”

You take a glance at his clothes. They stink of stale cherry air freshener, and, now that you think about it, are the same clothes you saw him wear when he threw you into a box.

“How long have you been in your room, Red?”

Red’s eyes dart around the room, like he’s looking for an escape route from the question.

“Red,” you press, snapping your finger. “How long have you kept yourself cooped up in there?” Your hands go on your hips for emphasis.

He mumbles an answer, his face turning bright red.

“Red, you have until the count of four. One… two…”

Red sweats copiously.

“Three…”

“.....I haven’t left since the last time I saw ya!”

“Red!” You tug at your hair in frustration. “You can’t do that! That shit’s not good for you.”

“Never stopped me before,” he grins dryly. You glower directly into his eyelights.

“Well, you know what, Red? I’m stopping you. Come with us to IKEA.”

“Wha—— what the hell’d I be doing at a fuckin’ IKEA?!” He asks, almost offended.

“Keeping an eye out for us, getting cheap coffee and fresh air…”

He looks down, his toes pointing inward.

“I know you’d protect us as well. And, you could get something nice for your brother while you’re there.”

After a while, he straightens up and nods.

“Fine, I’ll go. But you gotta stop punchin’ people in the face. And don’t get into a fight with another customer over your favorite barstool in the store. There’s plenty of others.”

You laugh a little. “It’s a deal. Lemme see if Mutt—“

“Don’t bother him. Not today,” Red cuts you off.

You cock your head.

“What do you mean, Red?”

“I dunno… just… if I’d gone through what Boss says he just experienced in the last couple hours, I’d want some space. He and I aren’t super close or anythin’, but it’s a hunch.”

You nod. Your heart sinks for Mutt. You wanna help in some way, any way, especially after he saved your life.

“I know you mean well, princess. You’ll help him better when he’s ready,” Red forces a grin and ruffles your hair. You swat at his hand, and both of you walk back to Sans’s apartment.

“HUMAN! WE HAVE PERFECTED OUR LIST! TO GLORY AND IKEA!” Papyrus sinks a little. It seems like he expected someone to join in.

“Come on, Wingdings, we were just practicing this!”

Wingdings gives him the world’s wimpiest thumbs-up.

“To glory and IKEA, Papyrus.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My two new beta readers are @Rnd_Injustice and @Excel_Lynt. Go pay their tumblrs or mine (if you're 18+) a visit.  
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> ko-fi.com/dignissinbar


	15. Chapter 15: Knife to Meet You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was a long wait... I'm sorry. Hopefully it was worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings:  
> -Murder  
> -Brief violence  
> -Brief loss of agency  
> -Hallucinations (well not quite)

     Papyrus, you, Gaster, and Red crowd into the elevator.

“Red, why are you taking the elevator? You can just shortcut down the steps,” you question.

“What, I can’t spend some time with the posse I’m guarding? I see you, princess. All business, no leisure,” Red teases.

“I just figured you’d be uncomfortable,” you shrug.

“Joke’s on you, sweetheart. I’m always uncomfortable,” he grins. “So how are rides or whatever gonna work? Because if the plan is to crowd onto Y/N’s shitty bike, I’ll go ahead and shortcut.”

“Keep shitting on Electra and you might wake up with a wrench up your ass,” you grumble and shoot him a dirty look.

     Just the mention of riding a motorbike seems to make Gaster queasy.

    “Not to worry, Red, Wingdings! My car can fit all of you, and we’ll drive up to IKEA in style! It has a dimensional trunk for all of our large furniture needs!” Papyrus smiles, twirling the key on his finger.

    “Wow, you a lawyer or a car salesman?” Red snickers.

    “I believe you are experiencing a feeling humans and monsters call ‘jealousy’! It’s all right; I will allow you to ride shotgun!” Was that a little hint of a smirk on Papyrus’s face?

    Red snorts and rolls his eyelights. “I’ll pass. Your big bro might wanna hold your hand, though. Looks like he’s about to hurl void chunks on your windshield and we haven’t even gone all the way down the elevator yet.”

    As he mentions it, the elevator door opens, and Papyrus leads the way to his car. It’s a bright red-orange, with custom leather seats and legroom for someone of Papyrus’s height. It’s washed, waxed and polished to the nines. You’re still amazed that someone with this level of fastidiousness and attention to detail could even stand to live with someone like…. well, Sans, brothers or not.

“Well, I’m not feelin’ like shotgun, so whaddaya say, old man? Wanna get cozy?” Red grins.

“You don’t… hate me?” Gaster meets Red’s eyes. He’s starting to tear up.

“Turn your eye faucets off,” Red chuckles. “It’s just a car ride. And of course I don’t fuckin’ hate you. I barely---- oh, that prick’s  _ still  _ on your case?!”

“As disappointed and frustrated with Sans’s behavior as I am, I would appreciate you not call him a prick,” Papyrus waggles his finger, and starts up the car. 

Red guffaws, almost spitting out his dog tag. “Holy shit! When the creampuff cusses, you better watch the fuck out!”

“In all seriousness, I would rather not discuss Sans right now.” Papyrus sighs, then summons a smile. “Let’s just… step away from the apartments for a while. See the sun, see the people! Make Wingdings and Y/N feel at home! Though we do need to get home before it rains in the afternoon.”

“Hear, hear,” you grin and settle into your seat. Papyrus pulls out of the parking lot. You spot Blue painting a mural on a nearby coffee shop, while a spider similar looking to Muffet talks to him. You can’t hear what they’re saying, but he looks focused and in his element. You don’t think he saw you guys leave, and none of the guys in the car seem to have spotted Blue either.

As you get further from the apartment building, you see cigarette smoke from the penthouse balcony, and hear faint… classical music from Mutt’s room? You’ll have to look into that later.

Papyrus puts on some quiet talk radio, and no one protests. Red and Gaster seem comfortable enough. Gaster attempts scientific conversation, but Red seems to dodge the topic, instead talking about his brother, the Royal Guard, and human-monster relations. Papyrus is more than happy to chime in. You choose to forgo the discussion, instead just enjoying the banter, the soft summer breeze in your hair. 

 

The car pulls up to IKEA. Thankfully, the breakfast and lunch rushes are over, so the parking lot is relatively empty. Papyrus gets a spot close to the door, and your motley crew steps out. The cool A/C and bright colors hit you, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in.

“I’m gonna need coffee before I embark on this shit. Who’s with me?” Red chuckles.

“I’ve had enough caffeine for the next 48 hours, thanks to Doctor Nerd’s disturbing coffee portion sizes,” you tease.

“I drink just as much caffeine as the average scientific or medical professional. You need to step things up, human.”

“I think Wingdings just told you to get on his level, sunshit,” Red waggles his brow ridges at you. You stick your tongue out at him. He does it back. His tongue is pierced in two places.

“Actually, the best energy drink is no drink at all! Military energy gum is the way to go!” Papyrus chimes. Red and Gaster stare at him in abject horror.

“.... I always thought you were too damn energetic for it to be natural, but MEG might be a little excessive, creampuff. Even Boss doesn’t fuck with it.”

“Nyeh heh heh, that’s because Edge has designated shifts and a somewhat predictable sleeping schedule. I haven’t slept in 72 hours!”

“Papyrus!” you scold. “Why are you driving? Why are you awake?”

“Because I do not trust you to drive, human. And this was important. And I… I have had difficulty sleeping in my apartment for a long time. I much prefer my office, but Sans has recently been badgering me about where I go.”

“Why can’t you sleep, creampuff? Your bro doesn’t seem like the type to keep you up at night.”

“That’s just the thing… he is. He’s constantly going out into the night without telling me when he’ll come back. If he isn’t doing that, he’s working loud machinery in the lab, which he refuses to soundproof on our side ‘in case something goes wrong’. And if neither of those things are occurring, Blue and Stretch are fighting, or Blue is listening to death metal in his room.”

“Woah, that’s a lot. How come we don’t hear any of that stuff?” you reply, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Most of us have gotten our apartments soundproofed because of all of those things, but apparently Paps hasn’t. Wait a minute… what about you, old man? Can you still hear that shit, too? I don’t remember if Axe and Sugar ever got around to doin’ much of anything to that place other than destroying it.”

“I can hear everything. Though compared to being physically incapable of any sleep, it’s an improvement.” 

“How’s that even work? Eventually you gotta get tired,” Red questions as you file into the food line. 

“The VOID has too much information passing through it. I couldn’t sleep. Both too much and too little was happening at once for me to be able to find rest. So much to learn, and yet… nothing. No background noises, no hum of the office fan, no snoring from my brothers… I had everything I wanted, and nothing I needed.”

Silence settles over your group; everyone quietly orders their coffee and pastry. You choose a table near the windows. Right as you’re all about to sit, Papyrus gives Gaster a tight, long hug.

“Oh, Papyrus…. You don’t have to force this. It’s alright. I’m a grown man.”

Papyrus shakes his head. “I need to try harder for you… for both of you,” he sighs, letting go.

“Since we’re on the topic of Bluehoodie Vanilla, personally? I don’t think he’s meetin’ you halfway. There’s nothing to try, at least, nothing more than what you’ve already been doing,” Red grumbles.

“But that’s just the thing. I’ve… I’ve given up on trying to win him over. It’s despicable, but I’m so tired,” Papyrus drags his hand down his face.

“We know, Papy. You shouldn’t have to go it alone. We’ll find a way to help you,” you sigh and rub Papyrus’s shoulder.

Red nods.

“I may not be of much help, considering how much anger he feels towards me, but I’ll be damned if I don’t try,” you add, determined.

Gaster pulls out a notepad and a pencil, and starts to scribble down notes.

“That’s just the thing, actually! Sans has an avoidant personality. He keeps his feelings inside, though not very well, and he prefers to let problems solve themselves than interfere directly. That is, of course, difficult when the problem turns out to be him. Direct confrontation…. May be the answer. But it has to be done somewhat gently, by an outside source.”

You groan. “I hope you don’t mean me. I’m about as gentle as a bulldozer.”

“Well, human, you’d best begin learning. And I didn’t find you very bulldozer-like on our night at the ballroom… well, until we were rudely interrupted.”

Papyrus and Red both look away, ashamed.

“Anyways, just… show Sans that kindness that you were so willing to show myself, and the others here whom we had forgotten. I believe in you,” Gaster finishes. He takes your hand for emphasis.

Upon hearing that phrase, Papyrus seems a million miles away.

“Come on, Paps. Let’s get this party started,” Red nudges him. You put your dishes away and walk off.

“The first thing every home needs is its center: the couch! So let’s go that way!” Papyrus smiles, a thrilled gleam in his eyelights. Gaster selects a long, black leather couch with a chaise attached. You pale at the price, but Gaster and the others seem to shrug it off. Are they rich? Was it the gold exchange when everyone arrived onto the surface?

“Wingdings, at least get it in white!” Papyrus begs.

“White will be more difficult to keep clean,” Gaster counters.

“Black is going to make your home look like an office!” Paps adds.

“My home is an office. Black it is.”

Papyrus sighs, but he knows he’s beaten.

Gaster selects a long, black and white striped rug, and a light hardwood coffee table. He insists on getting mugs online, but selects minimalistic glassware and silverware. Papyrus insists on him getting a spice rack and at least decent cooking supplies.

   “I don’t know how much you remember from me raising you, Papyrus, but it’s a wonder that my cooking wasn’t what took me away from you both. It’s like watching a car accident in slow motion.”

   “Maybe you can come to my cooking classes!” Papyrus chimes. Each time you wonder if it’s possible for him to look more excited, he blows your expectations away. He’s practically bouncing on his heels. Red is walking alongside you. His face continually shifts from small smiles at Papyrus and Gaster, to looks of longing out the window, or at you. You’re not sure what you’re supposed to say to him, so you impulsively take his hand while you walk. He startles a little, but grabs yours tightly back.

   While Papyrus and Gaster banter over shower curtains, you find a room set and sit on the bed next to Red. No one seems too interested in this display, so you get a little privacy. The walls are deep coffee, and the room has a warm tone to it. A salt lamp is up on a bookshelf, and there seems to be a portable piano in one of the corners. You pull out your phone and take some pictures of the setup.

   “What are you up to now, princess?” Red chuckles.

    “Thinking…. Mutt’s room could really use some TLC. Their whole apartment, really. Maybe a surprise renovation would make the brothers feel a little better about stuff.”

   “I dunno, sweetheart. It’s a lovely idea and all, but won’t Mutt just fuck up his room again?”  

“Well, his room right now barely feels worth maintaining. It’s kind of hard to foster hope in a space like the one he’s living in,” you sigh. “I just want to help in any way I can, and since I’ll be making a salary again---”

“Don’t worry about it,” Red stops you.

You look up at him. He won’t meet your eyes.

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“.... Sparkby might try to stiff you. You won’t be makin’ much. Not enough for what you want to do. I’ll cover it, as long as you help me pick the stuff out. I don’t know him too well, and I barely managed to decorate my own room.”

Your mouth’s wide open at his generosity.

“You can’t be serious, Red.”

“I’m a skeleton. I’m dead serious," he winks, then shrugs. "‘S not like I use my money for anything. I just collect on my patents and---”

“You’re an inventor?” You ask, more amazed with your flatmates by the moment.

“Eh, nothin’ any of the others couldn’t do. Simple anti-human defense mechanisms, if we fall into another war. They’re designed to be effective without taking a single human life. Involves a lot of gravity magic. It’s really not that interestin’. Since then, I haven’t really been inspired to make… well, much of anything at all. I made the stuff I did so that Boss and the rest of the Guard could have secure headquarters throughout the city without being accused of starting any sorta arms race. My stuff protects a lot of the royal houses too.”

“Red, that’s so cool!” You insist, despite his flushing. “I saw a lot of your work in my old job, then. I gotta say, it’s really damn effective.”

Red watches you, curiosity on his face.

“What was your old job?”

You stiffen.

“Last time we fought, you said workin’ for Sparkby wasn’t your first rodeo. So what was?”

Your hands grip the comforter beneath you.

“Look, I won’t tell any---- I won’t tell anyone who doesn’t matter. But we gotta know this shit. We’re in charge of protecting ya now. And if…. If your life is gonna be in my hands, I wanna----” He stops.

“Want to what, Red?”

“It’s corny as shit. I’m not sayin’ it,” he huffs.

“Please?” you ask.

He sucks in a deep breath. His ribcage expands under his jacket. 

“If your life is gonna be in my hands, I wanna hold you tight as I can. I need to know this shit, so I won’t let you fall again.”

“....Red?” you ask, confused.  _ Where’s this coming from? _

__ “Look, Y/N, I’m sorry I’ve been so damn distant. I’ve been thinkin’ a lot. Boss and I both have. We let you down. I let you down.”

“Red, it’s fine. We’re moving past it,” you sigh, touching his thigh. 

“It’s not!” He growls, pushing your hand away. “I broke your fuckin’ trust! And even though I don’t know much about your life before all this, I know how hard it is to live in a world where trust is a rare treasure, a liability. I wanna make it up to you with everything I’ve got, princess. I don’t deserve you touchin’ me, or holding my hand, when I’ve done nothing but make your life worse.”

You take a couple of minutes to think, before formulating your response

“I mean---- maybe you did… throw a lot of things out of order. I lost my second job, which I was gonna have to rely on. I lost my apartment and I can’t spend as much time with Muffet as I’d like. I lost Agatha, and some of the other members of the spider family.”

*You’re not helping.

_ I’m trying, Chara! _

__ “Anyway… I still gained a lot. I used to be a bodyguard for some pretty unsavoury clients, mostly human. Things went south and I had to uproot my life to here. Until I met you guys, I didn’t have any friends in the city other than my landlord’s family. Even after living here for a year, I didn’t have anyone to talk to other than my mom or them when I was upset or scared. I was in an unhappy situation all around. Other than my kids, sometimes I wasn't sure if…. I should wake up the next day.”

“Princess….”

“Then you, and Sparkby, and your brother came along, and you set all my frustrations free. I met Gaster, and had to keep him a secret, then we had that fight and---- well, it’s really hard, but it’s given me a purpose. I wanna understand magic, and I want to help you.”

Tears are pouring down Red’s face. He quickly wipes them away with his sleeve. You’re crying too, and you pull his arm gently from his face.

“Don’t l-look…” he sniffles.

You smile at him. “Alright. Eyes shut. Promise.” You close your eyes and wrap your arms around him as tightly as you can. Thankfully, Gaster and Papyrus are wrapped up in what they’re doing, so you get a moment to rest.

His clothes feel like they haven’t been washed in a while, but it’s not too bad. You bury your face into his neck, and he hides his in yours. There’s a gentle scent of cherry blossoms from him… is that normal? You’d never really noticed it before, and you’d been in close proximity before.

After a while, he takes another breath and lets you go. “Alright, Y/N. That’s enough feelings for the day. Don’t think I can take much more.”

“Hehehe, me either,” you grin. “Let’s go get caught up.”

 

“Ah, you’ve returned,” Gaster smiles. “Did you two go looking for something for Edge?”

“We were actually just wandering. Sorry,” you apologize.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, human! Wingdings and I are actually almost done! We’re arguing over ‘chandelier’ or ‘no chandelier’.”

“There’s literally no point to having a chandelier in the apartment. There is ample light from the windows, and regular light fixtures are easier to clean. Chandeliers are tacky and unnecessary.”

“Why don’t we just check the lighting section? If we’re lucky, we can find a modern, efficient chandelier that will be easy to keep clean.”

“Ey, look at this one. Kind of looks like molecular structures,” Red points up. 

    Gaster looks impressed. “Hm, it’s the one for nicotine. I wonder if they meant to do that.”

    “Who’s gonna know?” You ask.

    “Half the apartment building,” Gaster quips, smiling.

    “True. You’re all a bunch of fucking nerds. Let’s try something else.”

    “How about these?” Papyrus points to a set of bubble chandeliers. 

    “I’ll hit my head on those. And so will you. Think practically, Papyrus,” Gaster sighs. He doesn’t look all that tired, though.

    You take a moment to think.

    “What if we just make you one ourselves? It’s the best way to fit all your criteria.”

    “You could do that?” Papyrus asks, eyelights glowing excitedly.

    “I mean.... I used to be an art student. My depression kind of crushed those dreams, though. I can make you a lamp, though. The design classes I took were my favorite, besides fashion.”

    “Y/N, that’s amazing!” Papyrus exclaims.

    “Don’t get too excited. There’s reasons I flunked out of school. Also, I’ve got no studio space.”

    Papyrus frowns for a minute. “Well, I know Blue needs a space to work on his endeavors as well. We can just make one, if you need it!”

    “Wh-- Papy! That’s really not necessary! I’ll just rent a space from downtown.”

    “Come on, Y/N,” Red nudges you. “There’s no way the idea doesn’t appeal to ya. Your own studio? Well, kinda. Also… it’ll give ya a better space to… you know,” he mutters.

    Damn it. He’s right.

    “But… that’s gonna be super expensive, and I can’t pay you back for it, and---”

    “Human, this is something I’d been meaning to do for a while anyways. And the only payback I need is seeing you doing things that make you smile,” Papyrus cuts you off. 

    You feel like you’re about to cry all over again.

   “Worry not, human! I will not let you down as a host again. Anything you need, just ask, and I’ll do my best!” Papyrus adds, giving you a hug.

    “Thank you,” you whisper.

    “Always,” he responds, and lets you go. “Well, Red, have you selected something nice for your brother yet?”

    “Shit! Ummmm…  casual dinnerware. Boss keeps bitching ‘bout having to use the porcelain.”

    Papyrus rushes to the dinnerware section and passes Red a full set of minimalist, slate-colored plates, dishes and mugs. “Are these alright?”

    “Yeah, these are…. Pretty great, actually. You know his taste better than I do,” Red grins.

    Papyrus takes a bow. "Well, let us hurry and make our purchase. After all, we do not want to get caught in the rain!" 

    Despite his admonishment to beat the storm home, it takes you a couple more hours to get all of the furniture to Papyrus’s car, and you order pizza to fuel the extensive amount of setup that you have to do. The beer steins are recycled, much to Gaster’s dismay, but he admits that it’s for the best.

 

    A chill heralding rain gushes through the shattered glass of an abandoned warehouse across the road, blistering into the face of yet another hooded skeleton watching from the windows. The gust carries his hood with it, revealing his face as he curses to snatch it back. His red and green eyelights narrow in annoyance as he returned his gaze through the window, watching the family drive away with a manic grin.

_ -They looked happy, didn’t they, Sans?-  _ Another hooded figure lingers behind the Sans. Its ghostly breath rushes down the Sans’s shoulder---- or was it the wind? Sans summons his bone knife and rips into the air behind him. 

    “You know I fucking hate it when you hover like that,” The Sans grits his teeth, keeping the smile on his face. Five extra eyelights focus on his companion, but the spectral skeleton is unfazed. 

_     -You can’t have it both ways, Sans. Either I ‘don’t exist’, or I’m invading your personal space.- _

    The Sans’s eyelids squint like an angry cat. It’s the only part of his face that gives anything away. For the spectre, it’s enough. The Sans huffs, and his gaze returns to the now empty parking spot.

_     -It’s rather difficult for me to do anything other than hover, when you refuse to let the rest of me manifest,-  _ the ghostly skeleton answers, with a cross of his arms.

**_It’s bold today_ ** , the Sans notes uneasily.“You’ve gotten awful talkative lately, ‘bro’. But you’ve got nothin’ real to say, so why should I listen?” he turns to face his spectre and jeers.

_     -Nothing real, Sans? You are answering back….- _

    He stiffens. “That’s not the point, freak.”

_     -If you’d like me to cut to my point, then how’s this? Are you really willing to rip apart that human’s entire life for a moment of happiness?- _

    The Sans’s smile distorts a bit, as his eyelights scan the building. His phalanges sink into his sweater pockets. The entire jacket is riddled with holes and one of the drawstrings has been chewed down to a thread. He's drawn out of his thoughts by a growl behind him.

    “Who ya talkin’ to?”

**_Why is he here?!_** He spins around, eyes darting with a grin to welcome the intruder.

    “Ah, sniffed out again by the K-9 unit! I was wondering when you’d show your face,” the Sans announces. He gestures to the filthy floor, so dirty that his tracks are clear in the dirt. “Do you prefer ‘sit’, or ‘down, boy’?”

    “Pass,” Mutt looks unimpressed.

    “You’re both getting awful feisty, for the weakest of the bunch,”

    “Both?....” Mutt mumbles. 

     Sans leans against the broken window. Glass snags his jacket. “Not sure what you think has changed here, puppy. Matter of fact, you look even worse than when I last met you!” He snorts, but the laugh rings empty in his ribcage. “That guilt’s dissolving you like chalk in vinegar. You look ridiculous!”

    The taller skeleton shrugs, pulling a cigarette from his jacket.

    “You look rattled. Is there something on my face?” The Sans’s eyelights squirm and writhe in his skull, searching for sudden moves. He takes a step closer, then right past Mutt.

    “You know, I haven’t washed this jacket during my vacation. It still smells like your friends…  and Little Boy Blue’s, as well. How’s he doing? Working himself to the bone?”

    Mutt lights himself a cigarette, looking right through the shorter skeleton.

**_Why isn’t he paying attention?_** The Sans scowls, but continues.

    “I miss him…. At least he got indignant. That cute little spirit of integrity rattling around in his heart is quite charming. A very nice addition to my collection… but that would mean I’d have to sweep up that worthless ashtray he drags around with him, and I frankly don’t wanna touch it.”

    “Can’t disagree with you there," Mutt grunts, then inhales. "... Though it’s funny, watching you call someone else a hedonist. Speaks to a complete lack of self-reflection.” He sighs out the last of his smoke,“You really don’t know who you are anymore, do you, Sans?”

    The Sans giggles, “Aww! You sound just like each other, really, it’s funny! But what else do I do on a year’s vacation besides self-reflection? I’m not exactly made of G.... oh, wait, I’m forgetting the gold drops from all your pals.” 

    Mutt glares, truly disgusted.

    “Gold drops? She’s flat broke, you fucking rich piece of shit! That isn’t what you’re looking for, and that isn’t who you are. You’re…. something much worse…”

    It only eggs him on further, a Cheshire grin stretching his cheekbones to the limit.

    “That’s right… I know exactly who I am. Christmas Lights, the crazy skeleton, the boogeyman, lights-out, whatever flavor of the month the papers pick. Don’t really care about my latest title, or the speculation about my motives, but…" the Sans’s eyelights shrink down to pinpricks, “let me tell you something, puppy.”

    Lights is suddenly on top of Mutt, forcing cold metal tags into his phalanges.

    “Do you really think I could forget who I’ve become?” His voice is barely higher than a whisper.

    That’s when Mutt sees it.

    A glint of a golden scarf, and a faint afterimage staring vacantly into him.

    “Do you really think I could forget  **this** ?”

    Mutt’s soul pounds in his chest; he can’t get out of the other’s hold, even if he tries.

    “If you’re here to beg for the little match girl’s life… well, you’re pretty good at it, but neither of us are gonna stop shedding dust.”

    Lights summons a bone knife and pins Mutt to the ground by the ribs, narrowly missing his soul.

    “Don’t follow me again, buddy.... Our little partnership is over.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for making you all wait for so long. Thank you to my editors @excellynt and @rnd-injustice for putting up with me.   
> Wanna tip me? https://digitaltipjar.com/dignissinbar , I no longer use Ko-Fi due to their ban on NSFW content.  
> Visit me on Tumblr (18+ only)? https://www.tumblr.com/blog/dignis-sin-bar


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